CASTLING
by StardancerofAS
Summary: Speculative when written in 1989, this is now an AU version of the SW prequels. It is the history of the Jedi,Palpatine, Alderaan, the Clone Wars, and the birth of Luke and Leia. It is complete, chapters will be posted at regular intervals. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

CASTLING

Mesarthim & Stardancer

WRITTEN IN 1989, THIS IS OUR VERSION OF EPISODE 1. THE END OF THE CLONE WARS,THE HISTORY OF THE JEDI, THE RISE OF THE EMPEROR AND THE FALL OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER. IT IS NOW 'ALTERNATE UNIVERSE', ALTHOUGH AT THE TIME IT WAS WRITTEN IT WAS SPECULATIVE.  
WE ASSUMED THAT WHAT BEN KENOBI SAID IN A.N.H. WAS TRUE- THERE WERE TWO, SEPARATE, JEDI. WE ALSO MENTION THE EXISTENCE OF THE KAIBUUR CRYSTAL, FROM 'SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE'- WHICH WAS, AND IS, PART OF SW CANON.  
PUBLISHED IN " A TREMOR IN THE FORCE #5" IT WON THE 1990 STAR AWARD FOR BEST LONG STORY. TWO SEQUELS ARE BEING WRITTEN. COPIES OF THE ORIGINAL ILLOS PRINTED WITH THIS STORY ARE AVAILABLE.

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There is a balance in the universe,and an intelligence that governs it .No man can escape the consequences of his own act,though it take him a million lives to re- dress the balance. Justice is inevitable. I knew that at the right time those would begin to be born whose character would influence the galaxy as mine could not. And I waited. Talbot Mundy "Om"

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CHAPTER I

The Amidaa always were, or so it was said. Many races and countless galaxies had learned,lost, and died for the knowledge they had gained. The Amidaa taught an awareness of that which they called the Visetas. Each galaxy was different. Each civilization embraced the knowledge they offered; but time after time each race was lost to Darkness. Despite the Visetas. Perhaps,the Amidaa began to think, because of it. It took many galaxies,many failures before the Amidaa came to realize it was not the concept of the concept of the Visetas, but the instrument used to teach it.

The Universe is speckled with galaxies;massive colonies of stars,planets and moons. Galaxies as varied as the numberless species that call them home. Ellipticals,globulars,barred spirals,irregular types;each displaying it's unique beauty beyond reach of all but the most powerful optical instruments. Occasionally galaxies collide,offering death and destruction as an incredibly beautiful explosion of gas and radiation and expanding debris,parsecs wide. In so dynamic a universe,the C-class spiral galaxy,whirling elegantly in a local cluster of many more unique and grand,hardly rated a second look. It's billions of stars and their attendant planets roiled with war and not a glimpse of it marred it's design nor mattered to the rest of the Universe at all.

This galaxy was but a smudge of light among millions;the humans who called it home but a fraction of it's sentients,and this latest war was their doing. They died by the thousands,taking other uninvolved,uncaring species with them, but beyond the rim their cataclysm was as insignificant as it's combatants. A little war...in a little galaxy.  
But war,however small, destroys. It tears apart the fabric of the life-force. Families,nations,worlds...all victims;all matter to the whole. Each and every loss matters. 2-

Dreaded,wars come. Resisted,they expand. Eventually,they end. A Republic of justice and tranquility was in it's last days. For more than a generation,it's citizens had been at war. Galactic War. The Clone Wars.

* * *

Begun by humans-their greed,ambition and violence-it quickly spread to every world,every race they touched. At it's heart was a question of morality;cloning. Organics. Humans. Perhaps aliens in time. Initially to provide a slave race,hybrids that would be the property of the cell donor or whoever contracted for the merchandise. Religion and politics collided,finance versus morality, technology against theology. No human,and very few other sentients,was neutral. Then, the rumors began.  
It was claimed that clones were already being produced- not by the military or the industrialists,but by the Jedi. The very thought of the Jedi number doubling,tripling,fanned the paranoia of those who considered those mystics dangerous as it was. Now,it was argued,they used their abnormal powers to serve and protect because they were so few.

But,if every Jedi cloned himself-once,twice-what would prevent their rule by sorcery? Who could stand against them? It would be a galaxy controlled by wizards;no dissent,no privacy,even within the individual mind. The one truth was that clones were, indeed, a reality; engineered and produced as military weapons,unbeknownst to the outraged,distracted populace. Thus were the Clone Wars begun by those lusting for power and intensified by accusing those whose power and intensified by accusing those whose power was already feared of wanting it all. Because it represented these worlds and races,the Senate of the Republic was also drawn into the conflict. Unlike their constituents,the Senators clung to diplomacy;valiantly maintaining 'gray' opinions in an increasingly black & white situation.

In that group of thirty-one from each galactic sector-the battle lines though not clearly defined, were very real.

Aerolone Mothma,five years before,had run for and won the Senate seat of the Alderaan system,formerly held by that system's Viceroy,Bail Organa. Then in her mid-twenties,Aerolone had met and married a fellow Senator,Tajerh Mothma. A dashing,handsome man in his thirties with wavy black hair and a twinkle in his green eyes,Tajerh was considered a statesman,not a mere politician,His gregarious manner and trusting nature had won the regard and affection of the entire Senate long before it won Aerolone's heart. The two now had a son, Dack; a boisterous,plump 15 month old. Cared for by Aerolone's mother,the baby and the Mothma's private homelife was completely separate from their political careers. Aerolone did everything in her power to keep it that way; for a choice between her family and the Senate would be painfully difficult. Adoring mother and devoted wife,Aerolone Mothma possessed an indomitable will beneath her serene facade, and a sense of justice that could only be called militant. That resolve was about to be tested.

Tajerh had recently been elevated to the High Galactic Council by his peers. That select committee was the final,absolute law of the Republic. Tajerh and nine other Senators who comprised the High Council,regulated the Republic's commerce and shipping,mediated disputes between their fellow Senators,and served as a court of appeal for citizens contesting Senate rulings. It was a system that had worked well for nearly a thousand generations.

Then the galaxy went to war.

The Senate went to hell

* * *

As is common in times of great historic conflict, the smaller threats are often ignored;lost in the glare of more imminent danger. Especially insignificant,partly due to the rather primitive system he represented, was Neiamas Palpatine; an ambitious bureaucrat of dubious morals and unparalleled ego. Still, he was a Senator and commanded some respect and power. But Palpatine listed for far more power than such a democratic system offered. Far more. Absolute power! And the only way to get it was to gain control of the Senate itself. To this end, Palpatine began to campaign for the Presidency of the Senate. Many thought more direct leadership was needed, especially with the divisiveness of war. Others shared his ambition,if not his ruthless nature. Followers... there were more than a few men of little backbone who would support and promote Palpatine's bid for such a grand position if they smelled personal profit in it. And Neiamas promised them whatever they wanted to hear; petty things really compared to his lofty goals. Governorships, commands,mineral rights...small roles for small players. He promised them everything and hinted at more. If they voted for him. Voting, that privilege of democracy, had been a way of life for several years on the galaxy's most civilized planet...Alderaan.

It's ancient monarchy abolished by the will of it's citizens, the royal family nonetheless retained their titles; and the respect and affection the people of Alderaan felt for their former King and his family remained unchanged.

Bail Organa, First Viceroy of the Alderaan system, had gone to war on the side of the Jedi Knights; leaving his people protected by declared neutrality. On Alderaan, his wife Celis waited. A tall woman in her early forties, her auburn hair going to silver, the former Queen reminded herself that she was not the only woman waiting for her husband; praying, wanting to know that he was safe, wanting it all to be over. Celis' duties as Minister of Education filled her days, but oh the nights were interminable. Patience was a virtue she admired but practiced with difficulty, especially alone. Always,she came back to the bitter fact that she was alone. If she and Bail had children,there would at least be something of him...someone to hold,someone to share the prayers. When her mind veered to such thoughts,Celis resolutely focused her attention elsewhere;back to the needle-work that was taking years to complete.

She had dozed off when a servant entered the sunny atrium. He cleared his throat rather loudly,rousing his mistress,then bowing low.

"My Lady,"He announced with an excited smile,"There is a deep space transmission for you." Celis didn't wait to hear more; she didn't have to. Rushing past the domestic in a blur,Lady Organa ran toward her private offices and the communications terminal. The image on the large screen was grainy and barred with static interference,but it brought tears to Celis' eyes. Lightyears away, her husband's handsome face and strong voice filled her with confidence.  
"Celis," he smiled."I had forgotten how beautiful you are." "Darling!Thank the Maker you are well Where are you?" "Near the Rim." Organa replied vaguely;but she was surprised that he'd been that specific. "The Force has been with us; our losses have been as expected. I...I haven't much time,Celis. We will soon join a new offensive." Particular emphasis there. "It may be a long while before we see each other again."

What he didn't say was 'perhaps never'. The "new offensive" was a pre-arranged signal between the two; it meant their situation was deteriorating.

The Republic's fleet was vastly outnumbered. They were fighting a defensive war now. Any 'offensive' would be the enemy's,and it would be large.

Celis' heart sank,but she kept her voice light and optimistic. "I am always with you,husband," she promised. Bail smiled at that. He knew too well what toll the war was taking on his wife. Something off screen distracted him a moment,then,when he turned back,there was a measure of urgency in his voice.

"Listen very carefully,Celis. This madness is nearing it's end. It is imperative that you proceed as we had planned. Alderaan is in your capable hands,but there is something else you must do. Contact as many of the families of the Jedi as you can. They will be in great danger soon. The General foresees it. They will be safe on Alderaan.I...I love you,Celis."

"And I you!"There was a catch in her voice that made Organa wince,as though he would never hear those words again."May the Force be with you,my darling. "May it protect us all in these dark times!"Organa replied. His voice began to break up in static,then finally faded with one word."Prepare."

As the audio and visual link dissolved,Celis Organa wiped hot tears from her face and summoned the Ministers of state.

* * * *

Six Jedi Knights had joined Bail Organa's company of six hundred. They were representative of the hundreds spread thinly throughout the Republic's systems in this time of turmoil. The 'general' Bail Organa had such faith in was Obi-Wan Kenobi, a renowned Jedi in his late fifties whose quiet,gentle demeanor had caused many to underestimate his abilities...often fatally.

As far as Celis knew,Kenobi had no family. But the other Jedi did-wives,children,parents. One by one, these individuals were contacted;some directly,most by go-betweens, so well protected were their identities and whereabouts. Many had already made arrangements for safe hiding places. Two young women,however,had gratefully accepted Celis' offer of sanctuary.

They arrived together,some days later,both young,frightened,and very pregnant. The smaller of the two,although both were petite,was a vivacious young matron whose light brown hair fell in wispy curls around her tanned cheeks. Her companion,a thin,pale young woman, brushed a strand of long blonde hair from her eyes as she drew an embroidered cloak around looked to be in their early twenties .

The two were warmly received and, after formal introductions,were shown to luxurious apartments. Barely past childhood themselves,Celis thought; but she was happy to have company and looked forward to these tow young families beginning in the palace. Jedi children being born on Alderaan would be a good omen...a turning point. There would be babies in the Organa home. Even if they weren't her babies.

* * *

On Radiaa, where the Senate members maintained homes and apartments,Tajerh and Aerolone Mothma hardly spoke as their ground-limo sped across the countryside toward their and weary,they had come to the end of another long day of frustration. Every Senate session ended in confrontation now;Palpatine saw to that. Every hour,every minute spent in chambers were rife with intrigue and dissension. Now that the Senate was in recess,getting home was all the Mothma's looked forward to doing. Quiet days spent at home,as a family. The couple was met at the door of their villa by a plump,pleasant faced woman in her sixties.

Marcea Bazenorr greeted her daughter and son in law as she always did,taking security cases and admonishing them to relax before dinner. No droids were needed with Marcea around. Tajerh threw off his heavy robe and plucked his squirming son from the pile of toys on the floor. The baby squealed and giggled as his father covered his little face with kisses. Aerolone kicked off her shoes and sank onto a couch,massaging her eyes. Tajerh settled into a conform-lounge with the baby and waited until Marcea had left the room before resuming the conversation he and his wife had begun on the way home.

"We in the High Council have run out of stalling measures," He baby wriggled out of his lap and toddled across the room to his mother. Tajerh let him go,then selected a cigar from the humidor on the table beside him and lit it."The threat is all too real,Aerolone."

"There must be something you can do." She answered.

" We are bound by legalities,my dear," he pointed out."One way or the other,Neiamas will get his vote. You'll see."

"He has no qualifications for such an office." Aerolone dismissed the idea as she busied herself with Dack. "The High Council is attaching too much importance to his posturings,Taj. We have had power plays before. Palpatine is just another ambitious technocrat. His imagination eclipses reality. Elections are a regulated, legal procedure and he has already exhausted all his avenues of influence."

Tajerh shook his head gravely at that. "This is not a man who will adhere to quaint legalities,my dear." Aerolone looked at her husband oddly. "There is something you aren't saying. Have you been threatened,Tajerh?"

"Of course not!"He answered firmly."Make up your mind, you are overestimating Palpatine." The very suggestion of intimidation astounded him. "The galaxy may be wracked with war,but the Senate is composed of rational beings,not madmen."

* * *

Half a galaxy away,on a still evolving world called Isua,Bail Organa's troops had finally won a bloody ground battle.  
The massive energy mining- industrial complex there would never contribute another credit of profit to the anarchists who were destroying the Republic.  
The peaceful,aboriginal people of Isua were freed from their oppressors;but at what cost!

The Battle of Isua had begun to prevent the destruction of a planet and it's people and it had ended as all battles do -in destruction. Freedom's price had been high. Of the six hundred troops Bail Organa commanded,little more than three hundred remained. Among the survivors were the six Jedi and everyone,including Admiral Organa,looked to those warriors for strength and guidance.

The oldest of the Jedi was Obi-Wan Kenobi, a stern faced man whose brown hair and beard were beginning to grey. A renowned Force-Master,Kenobi was a decorated General and Organa's closest friend.

The other Jedi were an odd group;four humans and a Weequay-Corbett Bazor- who, with his leathery brown skin and a single long braid adorning his head,was a truly intimidating Jedi.

The Clone Wars had just begun when Corbett completed his six years of obligatory training. Bazor was Kenobi's equal in education,if not in experience.

Rydwin Ikhimnwin, tall,blonde and rakishly confident, had entered the Jedi order kicking and screaming. After dedicating twenty two years of his life to the pursuit of pleasure, he applied the same persistent dedication to perfecting his skills once he surrendered to the inevitability of his calling. Trained by the ancient Jedi master,Daryoush, Rydwin had also been instrumental in the education of another Jedi, Herridel Yaroch.

At twenty two, Herridel had sacrificed all of her morals, and none of her dreams, to become a member of the ancient and revered Jedi brotherhood. She was classically beautiful by human standards,black-skinned with lavender eyes.

Anakin Skywalker was almost too good to be true. Obi-Wan had been astounded to discover such power in an untrained man. He was Kenobi's best and brightest student;the epitome of all the Jedi stood for.

Darth Vader was thirty three years old,two years older than his friend two men were very much alike physically; tall,dark haired and muscular. There,the similarities ended.

Obi-Wan had such hopes for this troubled young man.  
Vader was every bit as talented as Skywalker,yet he lacked Anakin's emotional control and balance. It was as if the Force were a precious substance and he the cracked vessel it was stored in. Addictive and dangerous to manipulate, the Force might prove o be Vader's undoing. Kenobi feared he was falling victim to it,and knew that Skywalker suspected it as well.

* * *

Bail Organa watched as his surviving warriors assembled, the healthy struggling with the wounded. Organa knew many more to be wounded and unable to return. Patrols would be sent. Of all the things weighing on the Admiral's mind, the suddenly clannish Jedi was uppermost. They appeared tense and aloof;whispering amongst themselves sitting around a small campfire far from the other troops. If Organa had known what the Jedi were discussing,he would have found it hard to believe. Even the four Knights listening to Kenobi were finding it difficult to visualize what they were being told. Anakin finally voiced what his companions were thinking.

"Master, something isn't right. We can sense it but...you know,don't you? Tell us." Skywalker felt a chill as the older man hesitated. There was a look of unmistakable fright on the General's face;something they had not seen during the worst of the war.

"It's here." Kenobi whispered in a hollow voice. No one moved;they all waited for Kenobi to continue. With much discomfort,he did."All that is evil walks among us. We have yet to see the terrible consequences of it's appearance. It searches for our weakest link."

Before Corbett or Herridel could comment,Anakin Skywalker rose slowly,all the color draining from his face. "Where's Vader?" Admiral Organa had walked up behind Skywalker and placed a hand on his shoulder . "What's wrong,son?" Shaken,Anakin sat down beside Rydwin,saying looked to Kenobi for a reply. "Obi-Wan? is there something I should know? Something you foresee"  
All eyes were fixed on the Jedi General,who looked directly at his friend,revealing nothing. "There is nothing you need worry about,my friend. Darth has not yet returned,and we are concerned for him."

Organa nodded sympathetically,then left the Jedi to their meditations.

* * *

It would be hours before Darth Vader would return to his friends. The men he commanded staggered back long before,wounded,filthy and exhausted. The troops confronted Kenobi angrily,demanding he explain the Jedi's actions. "He's crazy! A wounded Sergeant muttered."Is it common practice for a Jedi to loot,General?"

"Loot?" Kenobi's face flushed with anger."Talk sense,man. Who would do such a thing! These suffering people have nothing."

"Captain Vader doesn't agree with you,sir. He went crazy,had us scratching through the rubble for some valuable crystal. My men were barely escaped with our lives!"

"Where is Captain Vader?" Kenobi demanded, panic rising in his breast. "I don't know,General."The man answered in disgust as he was placed on a stretcher by two medics."And I don't give a damn."

* * *

Marcea Bazenorr waited impatiently for her daughter and grandchild to return home from their customary walk. Somehow she managed to control her anxiety long enough for Aerolone to put Dack to bed before taking her aside. It was just as well they were alone.

"Aerolone,"the grey haired woman wrung her hands nervously. "all will be lost if you cannot help us." "Of course, I'll help, Mother." The Senator guided the distraught woman to the dining table where the two sat facing each other."Just tell me what is wrong. Please,please try to calm yourself!"

"Remember the Sorens? Their son,Evann,has been arrested by the Corporate Sector Authority."

"This is serious,Mother," Aerolone paled."What has he done?"

"Oh,Aerolone," Marcea sighed."There is so much the Senate doesn't know,and it's time you did. We're going to lose the war.I know it, you know it better than there are those who are already preparing to do something about it! Evann was smuggling weapons to a small band of patriots in the outer systems. He isn't the only one. He isn't even the first. If the CSA can, they will implicate the entire Merchanters Guild."

Aerolone understood the inference, but she hadn't heard much past "patriots". Somewhere in the galaxy there were courageous people who would not bow their heads in defeat. Even as the foundation of oppression was being laid upon them, they were preparing to shatter it.

"Who knows you've come to me on Evann's behalf, Mother? Did the Guild Elder's suggest it?"

"No." Marcea could not understand why that would matter." Katha asked for help for her son, but I'm sure the Guild will file a formal protest with the Senate. It's not illegal to transport weapons, Aerolone. Why would a delivery to private citizens be cause for arrest?"

"It shouldn't be." Aerolone was puzzled. Unless the CSA was smoothing the way for something...someone. Purchasing a little 'insurance' perhaps? It was a large agency;anyone who was powerful enough to control it behind the scenes had higher ambitions than were readily apparent. A coup? If so,the Merchanters guild, the Senate itself would be in the middle of it if she were not careful. Evann Sorens was far more important than even his mother realized;not for what he had done,but for what he knew.

"Mother," Aerolone Mothma patted her mother's trembling hand and employed her best official voice."Tell the Sorens' not to worry.I'll do all I can for Evann, and the Guild. Absolutely everything"

The news of guerilla groups forming may have been a surprise to Aerolone Mothma, but Neiamas Palpatine had access to far more information. No activity even remotely suspicious escaped the notice of those minor bureaucrats who curried favor with Palpatine. There was not a public demonstration or word of dissent spoken in all the galaxy that went unreported. Palpatine knew there were pockets of malcontents;primarily in the outer systems. He also realized, better than anyone,what threat they pose to his design even before he could enact it. Nothing to do yet,but watch and wait for the opportunity to eradicate his opposition. It would be justified by the legal power at his disposal.

* * * * *

Massive funeral pyres illuminated the starry night on Isua,casting wavering shadows across the ruined village and bathing the living and the dead in eerie light. Rydwin and Herridel went about their grisly task as quickly as possible,separating the bodies of the enemy dead from those of their fellows. A crude cart halted just beside the two Jedi and two wide-eyed Isuans began unloading the last bodies recovered from the far edge of the battlefield. Someone was counting the dead, Rydwin though grimly; he had stopped counting hours before. He had even stopped looking at the faces. He simply noted the uniforms and watched as the corpses were carried to separate pyres. Occasionally,Herridel made soft moaning sounds as they found someone they had shared a meal with,a joke,the young man who had proudly announced the birth of his first child a few days before.

"I wish the ships would hurry,"she murmured,just to say something that would break the awful silence. Her lavender eyes locked onto his blue ones and he touched her shoulder,knowing.

Four corpsmen made quick work of whisking the dead away;as anxious as the Jedi to be done with the horrible they whispered to each other,making the moans and cries of the wounded that much clearer in the cold,night air. Rydwin clenched his teeth,trying to center his thoughts elsewhere as he turned over one body after another. Unexpectedly,he staggered back a step; a look of numb horror on his face.

Whatever control he possessed was gone now,evaporated at the sight of the face staring up at him with dead eyes. "Rydwin?" Herridel grasped his arm,confused. The body was that of an enemy soldier. Young,red haired,wearing the uniform of a gunnery corpsman. The boy had obviously been killed by his weapon's explosion.  
"Geryon..."Rydwin moaned,sinking to his knees beside the ,he gathered the dead enemy soldier in his arms."Oh,Geryon." "Rydwin!" Herridel tried to draw him away. The corpsmen were returning and she didn't want to believe Rydwin could know this dead man.

"Rydwin...who is he?"

The Jedi stared up at her with brimming eyes. "My nephew. He's only sixteen...he can't be here."

Herridel sank to her knees,wrapped her arms around Rydwin,tried to draw him away from the boy's body once more. "He must have been conscripted. I'm so sorry,love."

"Children...we're killing children."He groaned as the corpsmen stopped beside him,staring in shock at the sight of a Jedi Knight weeping over the body of an enemy.

Corbett Bazorr,too,strode quickly toward the bodycart. All across the camp,the men were noticing and whispering to themselves. "Get up,man!" The Weequay's leathery face twitched in the firelight."Do you know how this looks to the others?"

"Corbett,it's his kinsman!"Herridel shot back defensively.

"I'm sorry, I really am," the Weequay persisted,undeterred by the display of sentiment he considered disgraceful."But we have to set an example. You're a Jedi,Rydwin! Act like one!"

"He's dead,sir,"A bewildered corpsman put in. He and his companion bent to take the body,only to back away as Rydwin began shouting.

"Don't come near him! Get these gravel maggots away,Bazor!"

"You have to let them take him,Rydwin." Herridel pleaded."Let him them take him!"

"No!"The tall Jedi began sobbing and Bazor turned away in disgust. Perhaps Kenobi could talk sense to the man."NO!" Rydwin growled."We're killing children."

The corpsmen managed to wrest the body away from Rydwin as great sobs coursed through him and Herridel stroked his hair gently. When the Jedi finally spoke,his voice was hollow,defeated.

"I can't go on after this."

"I grieve with you,"Herridel tried to put strength and confidence into her voice,knowing that Rydwin's spirit was broken,hoping that he would draw courage from her."You have to separate yourself from your feelings,Rydwin. All the dead are someone's loved ones. Remember your control. We can't allow feelings to control us in war."

Rydwin stood slowly,his shoulders slumped as though under some unbearable weight. That kind of control,the kind demanded of anyone who would be called a Jedi was. not in him. It had never been. He had deceived himself because of all their expectations;but mainly because he had never been tested. His Master would never have accepted him for training had it not been for the war and the extra-ordinary circumstances the Jedi found themselves in. The farce had gone on long enough.

"I can't do that,Herridel. I don't want to. When we rejoin the fleet,I'm going to ask the General to release me from my oath. I'm not one of you; I would be dangerous to the others and to myself."

"He won't agree with that," the young woman followed as he walked toward the campsite.'He won't let you go. I won't let you can't change what you are. He can't release you from what you are. That oath was for life."

"Then I will welcome death,when it comes,with open arms."

She left him,joining the others at the pyres,because she didn't know what to say to Rydwin anymore. Corbett,Herridel was certain,had spoken to the General,but Obi-Wan made no move toward the troubled he know,had he suspected all along,that Rydwin had lost his faith in himself? Kenobi looked at her oddly, but said nothing as she worked beside him to dispose of the dead with honor.

Rydwin Ikhimnwin had positioned himself far from the other Jedi and their grisly task. He moved,instead, toward the wounded who lay in long rows beside the campfires. With only seven corpsmen left alive to attend them,the injured waited their turns for medical attention. Their moans carried far into the dark. The Jedi found himself drawn to the row of enemy wounded. In the firelight their faces twisted in pain, they all looked like helpless children,like...

How could he stand by, listen to their cries,when he could use the Force to alleviate their suffering? Gathering his robes about him,the tall Jedi knelt beside one wounded soldier,his voice calm and soothing as he placed one palm over the man's wound and the other on his head. Tirelessly,seeing Geryon's in every face,Rydwin employed the Force to ease the pain of every man he touched.

The next was not unlike the others;a little younger,his eyes a little wilder. The tattered remains of his uniform-an enemy uniform-revealed a mortal chest wound. That he was still alive amazed Rydwin,but the Jedi was determined to make the boy's last moments painless.

As the other Jedi consigned the dead to the roaring flames, a foot soldier assisting them stepped back from the searing heat. He glanced over his shoulder with contempt.

"Some of us would rather comfort our enemies than honor our dead."The soldier growled to no one in particular. Corbett Bazor looked toward the campsite,then at the others.

Kenobi didn't have to look to know what the man referred to. "I see no enemies there,son. Obi-Wan observed sadly,returning to the task at hand.

But the heart of at least one enemy beat still; with all the hatred instilled in it by years of lies. He didn't care that this sorcerer had eased his agony. Compassion translated as stupidity...weakness; an opportunity to avenge his own death and to save the galaxy from at least one of the mad wizards.

Rydwin's eyes were closed; all of his attention was focused on the boy's pain, absorbing,dissipating it. He didn't sense the hand reaching for the light-saber at his waist.  
Milliseconds were all that was needed. The hand that grasped the weapon twisted it inwards and ignited it, sending a meter long shaft of energy through the Jedi's body.

Above the crackling of flames, Herridel heard a familiar hum. She spun around,screaming. "Rydwinnn!" The eyes that locked onto hers asked 'why?', then Rydwin slumped forward.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

It hadn't taken very long for Celis Organa's two young house guests to become friends. Different social positions meant little now that their current status was identical. In many ways,however,the young women remained opposites. Besantilier,called Bes by everyone, was quiet and even tempered. She was not,Celis was pleased to learn,the type who would sit around feeling sorry for herself. Bes was strong of spirit and informal of demeanor. Her whole life,all of her thoughts and energies were directed toward her family and the future. She delighted in shopping for things for her baby,preparing a nursery,planning things down to the last detail. None of which concerned Linaire at in the least.

The more ungainly her body became,the more impatient the young matron became. Linaire,everyone soon learned,was mercurial; not at all the demure mother-to-be she appeared. She chafed under the constant,solicitous attention of servants and droids and talked of her husband; something Bes never did. Both Linaire and Bes were left alone most of the day. Celis Organa's schedule dictated that she leave the Palace before sunrise and return late in the evening. Her days were filled with defense plans,conferences on strategy,military matters far from her own cultural interests. But Celis surprised Alderaan's ministers with her decisiveness and bold suggestions. She was determined that no effort be spared to defend the planet,despite a hail of opposition. Very few members of the court or the government could imagine Alderaan being threatened; furthermore, they could not think of a way to defend it on such short notice. What Bail Organa's wife had planned,however, was more than up to the job. It had to be; destruction, Celis knew, would come from the sky.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi paced the campground's edge, peering into the darkness anxiously. Rydwin's death had staggered the entire company,but the Jedi were stunned beyond words. Each sat, staring into the sputtering campfire,considering faith, commitment,weaknesses.  
It was General Kenobi's responsibility to foresee the emotional as well as the physical difficulties of his own men. Ikhimnwin's fault, if it could be called that even now, had been in his soft and gentle heart. Goodness had cost a Jedi his life. But it wasn't just grief that twisted Kenobi's heart;dread was festering there. He sensed danger,wafting all around like a vague odor on the wind. Formless,elusive. All senses straining could not locate the source. Just as he could not get a mental fix on Darth Vader. What he didn't want to believe was the possibility that the two had found each other. "General?" A tall,grizzled soldier startled him."The sentries report two men coming across the ridge." Kenobi was joined by Anakin,Corbett and Herridel. All eyes strained to see the figures as they drew nearer. Emerging from the darkness,tall and imposing,Vader strode toward the firelight prodding a stumbling prisoner before him. The man was battered and bloodied, his hands bound behind him.

"Master, this is the Colonel who led the attack on us." Obi-Wan looked from the kneeling man to the Jedi. The same hatred was on both. "What have you done,Darth?" Kenobi glared at the younger man."This is not the way we treat prisoners! Anakin, see that the Colonel is cared for and placed with the others." Vader's face blackened with barely-concealed rage. "Cared for? This 'humane' altitude will get us all killed. It's no wonder the Jedi are ridiculed throughout the galaxy. We deserve to be exterminated if we cling to such misguided..."

"That's enough!" Anakin's voice cut him off.

"He's an old fool!"Vader shot back. "You all are! Compassion isn't a virtue in war, it's a weakness!"

Herridel closed her eyes, seeing Rydwin's murder as proof of Vader's words. "Jedi scum!" The now standing Colonel spat in Kenobi's face. Corbett,Herridel and Anakin watched in horror as Vader,in one lightning move, ignited his saber and beheaded the enemy prisoner. All was deathly silent as Kenobi knelt,removing his robe, to cover the smoking corpse. He looked up at Vader with pity and disgust. "You're no Jedi, you're a common murderer."

Shaking with fury, Vader raised the lightsaber to strike. Immediately, three others sparked to life in the darkness. The Jedi stood ready to protect their Master from one of their own. "Have you gone so far,Darth?" Obi-Wan rose calmly, the blade of Vader's weapon millimeters from his face."Would you kill another man without looking into his eyes?"

Vader stood as if paralyzed; Kenobi staring hard into his eyes, searching,unwavering, trying to find the friend he had known within the stranger he faced.

"Shut up!" Darth rumbled, the hands that held the saber above Obi-Wan's head were trembling. "It hasn't won yet." Kenobi stared past Vader's darkening spirit, deep into his soul and at what lurked there. "Not yet. It can't make you do it."

"SHUT UP!" Vader screamed. Kenobi turned away sadly; turned his back to his former student. Overcome with the realization of what he had nearly done, Darth Vader whirled and ran back into the darkness.

Anakin Skywalker could not believe what he had just witnessed. Something had happened to his friend; something terrible enough to turn him against everything he had been taught. Against Obi-Wan! Skywalker followed Kenobi, who was headed toward the command post, past groups of stunned troops who had viewed the entire surreal incident.

"Master?" Anakin looked to the pensive Jedi General for some explanation, at least a word of encouragement. Kenobi had none to offer. "Master, please don't give up on him! Let me go...I can bring him back!"

Obi-Wan paused momentarily then looked at his student with such an expression of profound regret that Skywalker said no more. Kenobi merely shook his head and continued walking; leaving the Jedi to contemplate Vader's actions,his own reaction and the doubts within their own hearts.

* * *

Dusk on Alderaan fell slowly in shades of violet and pink that stained the sky from horizon to ecliptic. It would be another late evening session with the Ministers for Celis Organa. As she spent longer hours with the government officials, Celis became increasingly reluctant to discuss the details.

As the tension increased, Bes and Linaires' concerns mounted. Lady Organa's sudden silence. The general mood on Alderaan made them think there was much they weren't being told. This day ended for them just as all the days did; relaxing on the wide balcony with a light dinner and conversation.

"Your food is getting cold," Bes chided gently," you should try to rest more,Linaire. Get off your feet!"

"Do I still have feet?" The girl sighed as she took her friend's advice. "I haven't seen them in months! I,I don't know how much longer I can stand this,Bes."

"You only have a few weeks to go." Bes smiled as she sipped her broth.

"I don't just mean the baby." Linaire pushed the food idly around her plate."Don't you feel it too,Bes? Celis is keeping something from us. She knows more about the war, and our husbands,than she's saying."

Besantilier shifted uncomfortably. She had no doubt that was true, but she didn't want to know everything! The less she knew, the less she had to worry about. Linaire had a puzzling need to know absolutely everything; as though she could do something to change the war if she did. Bes didn't understand such intensity; it frightened her. Alderaan was safe. That was all that mattered now.

"Leave the war to the army and the Jedi." Bes suggested, placing a protective hand on her abdomen."Our babies come first,especially now."

"Yes, they do," Linaire agreed as she began to eat."But, do you want to know something,Bes? If it weren't for this baby, I'd be fighting alongside my husband. It feels like I've been pregnant forever."

"No," Bes shook her head,laughing," I've been pregnant forever! But it's' worth it." "Yes it is." Linaire answered. "Just remind me when I can't get out of this chair!" They both laughed.

* * *

Three stern faced Senators faced each other across a gleaming,grey table. These were serious men,confronted with a serious young man who would be brought before them in less than an hour presented them with a grave dilemma.

On the surface, it was a simple case of smuggling;but the laws were vague,open to interpretation. Especially in the Outer Rim Territories. Enforcement of any law there was sporadic. That fact alone made the arrest of Evann Sorens peculiar. The Corporate Sector Authority had it's hands full with the piracy and hijacking of supply ships outside the normal shipping lanes. One small cruiser,under private ownership and carrying a small cargo of energy rifles, should not have been followed and boarded. Furthermore,once boarded it would normally have been released. But these were not normal times,and the incident had the unmistakable air of a trap about it.

These two men were Tajerh Mothma's best friends. The three had served together in the Senate for over eight years. Rienstra and Naylor,the first a tall,thin black man from the Derra system; Naylor, a short stout man in his late sixties,represented the Ralltiir star system. Together, they were responsible for the welfare of two of the galaxy's largest sectors. They also possessed two of the finest political minds in the Senate. It was these two men,with Tajerh Mothma ,who steadfastly opposed Neiamas Palpatine's bid for the Senate Presidency. Others might be swayed or bought,but never Mothma,Rienstra and Naylor . "It's not too late," Naylor insisted,puffing thoughtfully on his pipe."The Council doesn't have to get involved in this,Tajerh."

"We are within the law to do so," Mothma objected."More so than the CSA was to treat such a minor infraction so seriously."

"But isn't that the point?" Rienstra observed."Why risk further dissension for such an unimportant pilot?"

"Because, if we do not, a precedent will be set. There will be others like Sorens; circumstances guarantee it. No,my friends, it is an insidious problem we face; not the arrest,but the reasons behind it. I will defend Evann Sorens. The Senate cannot be used to undermine the justice it represents."

Rienstra nodded solemnly,then looked to Naylor. "Then permit me to offer some advice..."

The discussion didn't last long. When it concluded,Evann Sorens had half the High Council on his side and-as far as Tajerh Mothma was concerned-all of the law.

* * *

While her husband handled the legal dilemma before him, Aerolone Mothma,her infant son and her mother landed safely on Eritria; ostensibly for a casual visit with old family friends. But there was a more important reason for the Senator's arrival on her home planet. The people she had traveled so far to meet were not just friends; they were the elected leaders of the Merchanters Guild. The single most powerful conglomerate in the galaxy, it was more deeply involved in the Sorens' incident than Marcea had led her daughter to believe.  
Dozens of Guild ships regularly transported massive amounts of weapons and supplies to scattered groups of would-be rebels. The Corporate Sector Authority, in their haste to frame Evann, had missed the mark entirely. Had the CSA been doing it's job uninfluenced, much bigger game would have been entangled in it's net. They would have caught the Guild red-handed. The irony gave Aerolone immense satisfaction; as did the knowledge that so many were preparing to safeguard the light of freedom before it was extinguished entirely. She wasn't worried about Evann Sorens; he was in Tajerh's hands, and Aerolone's faith in her husband's abilities was unshakable.

* * *

The case against the young pilot looked formidable once the protagonists assembled in the Council Chambers. Tall,pale, staring straight ahead, nervous but defiant,Evann Sorens was escorted to a raised seat facing the Council. Armed CSA guards stood a three meters away,facing him. Tajerh Mothma watched the boy's face carefully as the charges against him were read.

He had panicked during a routine sector sweep,hauled jets and tried to push his little cruiser into hyperspace. A wide-placed shot to the ships aft thrusters eliminated that option. On the premise that he had acted suspiciously, the Sector agents boarded the ship. Sorens had tried to avoid routine verification; the CSA was reaching and they knew it.

The weapons found aboard Sorens ship were another matter, Not illegal in themselves, they nevertheless violated shipping and interplanetary trade restrictions which stated that a civilian ship could carry only two hand weapons per crew member. Sorens, alone on board, carried thirty. And he wouldn't say where they were going.

Following strict procedure, the High Council would listen to the agents who had made the arrest, the accused, and the Senator who represented the sector in which the alleged violation had occurred.

It came as no surprise at all to Tajerh Mothma that it was Neiamas Palpatine, and that he demanded full prosecution.

The small, pinched faced man was nearly swallowed by his voluminous robes as he took the floor before the Council. His yellowed eyes flicked from face to face, then fixed on the nervous young defendant with a look of sympathy that appeared almost genuine.

"Fellow Senators," He began." I ask you to make an example of this individual. The outer rim systems are barely governable as it is. If we are lenient with even the smallest of crimes, lawlessness will escalate.■

"Crime?" Mothma peered at Palpatine coolly. "Civil, not criminal, law is in question here; and, it is a first offense. Isn't it possible that this young man did not know the law as it applies to civilian spacecraft?"

"Is ignorance of the law an excuse?" Palpatine glared at Mothma." He knew he was guilty; that was the reason he fled the Authority sweep!"

"As would I!" Mothma almost chuckled. "We all know the Authority's tactics are rather, shall we say, unorthodox? It is encouraging to learn they now have the leisure time to harass civilian traffic."

Palpatine turned away from the Council to cast a withering look at the CSA officer. "If I may interject something, Senator," the man spoke up quickly. "We may have acted in haste, but we felt our actions were justified. There is every reason to believe that the weapons in question were being delivered to our enemies. With the Republic's Security Fleet scattered, the Corporate Sector Authority is insuring it's own interests by protecting those of the Senate."

A purple faced Rienstra could not stomach the man's condescending attitude. "Captain, the CSA's vacillating political loyalties are as undeniable as it's lack of ethics!" The Senator snarled.

"I demand an apology, sir!" The Corporate officer jumped to his feet.

"Sit down, Captain!" Mothma boomed. "One does not apologize for the truth."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Palpatine interjected. "The CSA is not on trial here. This traitor is!" He walked over to Evann Sorens, who sat wide-eyed on the stand, and leaned only inches from the boy's face. "Were you or were you not transporting weapons illegally?"

The teenager said nothing, but hung his head and slumped in his seat. "You see!" Palpatine crowed. "He cannot deny it!"

"Senator Palpatine, you know the law." Mothma had begun to see a way out of the charade. He knew where the boy had been headed; Tajerh was puzzled. The Merchanters Guild was not the enemy of the Republic, still the boy would not speak; and the why of it began to dawn on Mothma." He need not prove his innocence. It is your responsibility to prove his guilt, by act or intention."

Tajerh paused for effect and turned to the records droid manning the computer console. "I'd like to see the technical data on citizen's Sorens ship, please."

The small monitors before each Senator came alive with the requested information. No one but Tajerh Mothma knew where this was leading. "Before we begin,son," He said kindly," Let me ask you for the record-did you intend to give these weapons to the enemy?"

Evann Sorens only hoped that Aerolone's husband would understand what he was trying to tell him. "Which enemy, Sir?"

"He mocks us!" Palpatine exploded.

"Silence!" Naylor brought his gavel down several times on the metal table. "You are dangerously close to contempt, Senator!"

"If I may be allowed to proceed," Mothma continued evenly." Citizen Sorens' ship is a Class B pleasure craft, correct?"

The CSA agent looked to Palpatine before he answered. That look, and the obvious fact that the boy was willing to accept imprisonment rather than implicate anyone else. "Yes" The Corporate officer replied.

"Maximum range for a Class B ship is 5 to 6 parsecs."

"Approximately."

Tajerh paused momentarily to examine a document handed him by Rienstra; then regarded Palpatine with raised eyebrows. "Within that area, there are exactly eight habitable planets. Is that correct, Senator Palpatine?"

"Yes, Senator Mothma." Neiamas whispered toxically.

"And, of these eight," Mothma continued," which support known 'enemy'activity?"

"We have reason to suspect at least." Palpatine was on the defensive now, but Mothma cut him off.

"No! you must have proof Senator! Absolute, irrefutable proof before we convict a man. So you have it?"

The entire Council's attention was now on the squirming Neiamas Palpatine. "Can you show one documented case of activity detrimental to the security of this Republic in the area in question?" Mothma pressed. "Can the Authority produce such a document? Do you have access to information that this Council does not , Senator Palpatine?"

"No." The enraged Senator rumbled, barely audible.

"I thought not!" Mothma said with satisfaction. "This has been a miscarriage of justice and a waste of this Council's time. I apologize to you, Citizen Sorens." He turned to the astounded boy. "I hereby recommend that the Council vote to return this citizen's ship and cargo and dismiss all charges against him."

The vote was taken, with the majority agreeing with Tajerh Mothma who looked to a tight-lipped, grey faced Neiamas Palpatine.

"And you, Senator? Do you agree that this was a just decision?"

"Yes." Palpatine replied politely; but his eyes glittered with hatred and there was murder in their depths.

The Organa palace was so quiet and empty that Linaire could hear Besantilier snoring softly as she passed her suite. Padding carefully up the hallway, Linaire was being solicitously trailed by a bronze protocol droid; a gift to her from Celis Organa. Bes had been offered one as well, but she had declined saying droids made her nervous. Perhaps she should have declined as well, Linaire thought. This particular droid, at least, could be quite exasperating.

Following her usual morning routine, Linaire had risen at mid-morning, dressed after a light breakfast, and headed for Celis' suite. Bes was sleeping later as her baby's birth drew nearer, but Linaire hoped she would feel up to the shopping trip they had planned. Quickening her pace, the girl turned into the Organa's private wing when the baby kicked so hard that a sharp pain twisted in her back, nearly doubling her over.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" The nervous droid hurried up beside her. "Yes...yes." Linaire was breathing hard, but smiling. "This little one is getting impatient. I'll be fine."

Girl and droid continued up the corridor, a little slower this time, and entered Celis Organa's sitting room. It was empty, only the former queen's personal droid greeted them. "Her Highness has gone to her offices, ma'am." The silver 3PO unit said, bowing politely.

"But she had no appointments before this afternoon," Linaire said, puzzled. This was so unusual for a strictly scheduled person like Celis that every nagging suspicion Linaire had been struggling with was instantly magnified." Did something happen?"

"Not to my knowledge, ma'am." The droid answered helpfully." She said she would contact you later."

Putting anymore questions to the 3PO unit would be pointless, but Linaire had a dozen or so for Celis. Now they would have to keep until evening. She had turned to go when a tall, handsome man in a rumpled uniform nearly collided with her. It took a moment, but Linaire recognized the Republic Navy's field dress. He must have just landed and he clutched a transparent message rod.

"Where is Lady Organa?" The man asked anxiously, his dark eyes scanning the room." I have a message, an urgent message."

"She isn't here," Linaire replied, her tone authoritative." Perhaps I can be of some help, Captain?"

"Antilles, ma'am." He straightened, the bowed formally." No . This is a personal message for Lady Organa."

Celis' droid stepped forward efficiently. "I will see that she gets it, Captain."

"Have you seen any battles, Captain?" Linaire's eyes followed the rod as it changed hands.

"Yes," Antilles answered grimly. "I have been with Admiral Organa in the outer rim for most of the war."

"Is the Admiral well?" She tried to keep the fear clutching at her throat from her voice; not daring to ask about her own husband.

"He was when I left him," Antilles answered," but we have lost half of our men, and a Jedi."

Linaire suddenly paled, clutching her abdomen. Both Antilles and her droid helped her to a chair. "Summon the Court Physician!" The Captain ordered Celis' droid.

"No!" Linaire looked better now. The baby was settling down. The last thing she wanted was to be confined to bed." I'll just rest here a moment. I'm not due for weeks yet; it was just a sudden turning, the excitement."

"I remember!" Antilles' handsome face softened a bit." My wife had quite a time of it too. If you're certain you're alright, my lady, I must report to the Secretary."

"Of course, Captain Antilles." Linaire gave him a dazzling smile." It has been a pleasure. Thank you for your concern. I hope we will meet again."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III "BES? Bes...let me in!" The voice at her door startled her. Linaire never disturbed her in the morning; Bes wished she hadn't now. She hadn't slept well in days. How could she? Bloated and uncomfortable, Bes had become increasingly listless and introspective. Pulling her robe on, the young woman shuffled across the dim room and palmed the door controls.

"I'm very sorry of I woke you," Linaire said as she rushed in, wide eyed and anxious about something. "I had to!" She grasped her friend's arm. "Bes, do you remember what we were talking about at dinner a few nights ago?"

"Oh, Linaire," Bes sighed and walked back to her bed with some difficulty. "You're getting yourself worked into a state! It's not good for you or the baby. How can you think Celis would lie to us? We're her guests, not her prisoners. There are probably many political things she needs to know that we don't."

From beneath the folds of her robe, Linaire extracted the small recorder rod and looked up at Bes meaningfully. "Bail Organa's aide just arrived with this. It's a private message for Celis."

"What have you done?" Bes was shocked. "You had no right to..."

"I have every right!" The girl shot back. Her lips were compressed into a tight line as she tried to control herself. "We both do! Bes, Bes, Captain Antilles told me one of the Jedi were killed! We have a right to see this; to know if our husband's are alive!"

Neither woman spoke as Linaire placed the rod in the small comm-console. The clear image of a kind-faced man with graying hair and green eyes filled the screen. It was the first time either of them had seen Bail Organa.

"Dear wife," the tired voice began. "I've sent Antilles to help you. You will need him far more than I. Half our forces are lost. Even the Jedi are being killed in this madness. Rydwin Ikhimnwin was murdered by a wounded prisoner he was trying to help. The end cannot be far when even compassion is repaid with death. All preparations to defend Alderaan must be completed at once. It will not be long before this war reaches you."

Linaire pulled the rod from the console, her hands shaking. Bes stared blankly ahead.

"They're alright," Linaire whispered, letting out her breath. "Safe!"

"But we're not." Bes' eyes were wild with fear, her hands clasped protectively over her abdomen.

Linaire's expression of relief gave way to one of seething fury. She began gathering Besantilier's clothing and throwing it on the bed. "And she didn't tell us a word...nothing!" She sputtered. I'll help you dress. We're going to see Lady Organa. You and I have been kept in the dark long enough!"

* * * Tajerh Mothma had met his family at the space port and listened, as they were driven home, to Aerolone's news of the Merchanters Guild and a growing network of would-be-rebels; all more closely interwoven than anyone suspected. Well, perhaps someone had made the connection.

The more Aerolone explained, the clearer the Evann Sorens affair became. Tajerh saw a pattern for the first time. Someone with influence and ambition was cleverly making minute changes in seemingly unrelated areas. Like tiny knots on the surface of fabric, each incident looked isolated when examined in it's own narrow field. What Tajerh feared was that it would take all the perspective afforded by time to see the pattern the knots formed-and then it would be far too late.

Time was Neiamas Palpatine's ally. The longer the Clone Wars dragged on the more time he had to plan his moves and shake up the unshakable infrastructure of his dynasty. Greed smoothed his path as well, for everyone had a price. Those who did not, those foolish individuals who would not be persuaded, would be subjugated or eliminated.  
Of more immediate concern to the ambitious Senator were the dissidents beginning to make themselves heard. Idealistic zealots who clung to a concept much too dead to revive. A Galactic Republic indeed! The rabble was nothing more than an annoyance now; but their defiance was setting a dangerous precedent. What Palpatine required was a demoralized citizenry.

Still enough of a politician to consider image, and in a period of temporary impotence, the Senator had no choice but to keep a close eye on all suspicious activity, And to wait.

Life had been good to the Mothmas. Political infighting had wound down at last. No disasters loomed on the legislative horizon; even the battle zones had quieted. Neiamas Palpatine had been put in his place by the High Council; so much so that Tajerh Mothma was being urged to become a presidential candidate because of the face -off. He had even begun to consider the idea.

Aerolone Mothma had been in regular contact with the Parliament of Alderaan; from them she could count on unbiased reports on the war, in detail. Their latest report was profoundly disturbing.

Alderaan was a special planet. Generally considered the center of the galaxy, it was the point from which all that was new and innovative emanated. The finest minds in the galaxy were trained in it's universities, and influenced every strata of sentient life beyond. It was, simply put, the most civilized world in the galaxy.

If Aerolone was correct-and she fervently hoped she would not be-the Alderaan system was too inviting a target to be left in peace. Her concern had been eased, somewhat, when she learned Bail Organa had planned for his planet's defense. his wife had authorized the construction of an impressive barrier against attack.

More exposed, and nearly as important, was the massive space station Lorinth; now vulnerable between the Alderaan and Hub systems. Lorinth was owned and operated by a consortium of private, interplanetary corporations. To lose the station would spell financial ruin for several systems. Aerolone consulted the administrators and representatives, then had ordered Lorinth moved to the inner Alderaan system. as long as Alderaan was safe, it would be as well.

* * *  
Anakin Skywalker watched the first armored cruiser as it appeared over the horizon with a mixture of relief and apprehension. He would remember Isua more for what had been lost there than for what had been won. I was all so senseless; how could Kenobi be right? Where was the reason in Rydwin's tragic death, or Vader's turn to the Dark Side?

But there was no more time to waste on 'what ifs'. Kenobi assigned Bazor and Yaroch to a final recon of the area while he and Skywalker helped load the wounded onto the ships.

Herridel took the point, picking carefully through the ruins of what had once been a happy village. " This is a waste of time, Herridel." Corbett complained. "There isn't anyone left here now. I feel...something strange. Let's go back. The transports are almost loaded."

"No." Herridel said firmly. " I sense it too. That's why we have to be sure. You check that building. I'll go this way"  
The two Jedi split up, lightsabers in hand, unaware that they were being observed from the shadows. As she entered the ruins, Herridel was greeted by a gruesome sight. Here, an entire family had met death unawares. Old and young lay sprawled on the floors or huddled together in corners; as if holding each other could have saved them. There was only death here and Herridel turned away, sickened; turned to leave the ruins only to be stopped by a faint noise. She paused, listening. The sound came again. Faint, sounded like...

"CORBETT!" She shouted, holding a small energy lamp above her head, straining her eyes to see in the shadowy light. "CORBETT!"

Not knowing what he would find, the Weequay ran up to her, saber blazing. "It's a baby!" Herridel insisted. The sound came again." We have to find it!"

Together they stumbled through the debris, turned a corner and, there, beside the body of it's mother, was a terrified infant. Wide eyes staring out of a dirty face, it sat there crying.

Herridel began to step over a pile of stones that surrounded the child, but Corbett put out a restraining arm. Something seemed odd somehow. "No. Wait!" He warned. "Something is wrong here."

"Wrong?" She looked at him incredulously. "Corbett, it's a miracle,something alive in all this death!"

She gathered the trembling baby in her arms and kissed it's forehead tenderly. Corbett relaxed. Soon they would be off this cursed planet. Smiling, the two headed for the campground. Watching from behind a crumbled wall, the wounded enemy soldier smiled in silent satisfaction as he pushed the button on the handheld control box that reduced baby and Jedi to fragments.

* * *  
The warriors of the old Republic finally left Isua in mourning for lives lost in battle and lives lost needlessly.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was far beyond grief; Rydwin, Corbett, he grieved for them at all, it was for the way death had overtaken them. Death held no fear for a fully trained Jedi; but the awareness of it's approach meant the difference between psychic torture and the effortless passage to another plane. These three were now in suspension, not lost to the Force, but not at one with it.

It now became more important than ever that Vader not be lost to Darkness. With Anakin Skywalker's help, Obi-Wan would make one last attempt to reclaim his student. It would not be easy. He impressed that upon Skywalker before they began. Vader would have to consciously refuse the Dark, or he could not be allowed to live to be used by it.

Anakin Skywalker stared out the cruiser's viewport at the limitless array of stars. "General," He spoke finally. "Where do we start? How can we hope to find Darth? Where would he go?"

Hands clasped behind his back, Kenobi, too, gazed out; looked with his mind's eye into the depths. "I know what it wants," He answered strangely." and where it is.I pray that he hasn't found it"  
* * * * * Linaire and Besantilier walked into Celis Organa's meeting unannounced; playing their conditions to the hilt. The general mood of the governmental complex had been enough to confirm their suspicions. Everywhere there was a sense of feverish activity, rising panic.

The Minister of Education, and acting Administrator of Alderaan, Celis was hunched over a tabletop spread with documents and charts. beside her was a tall, dignified woman whose everyday dress looked out of place in such official surroundings. "Forgive our interrupting you, Lady Organa." Bes murmured an embarrassed apology.

Celis looked up, her face creased with worry, massaging her temples. Plans...strategy...tension...her head ached dully.

"We had to come," Linaire explained. " to bring this."

She placed the recorder rod Antilles had delivered on the desk.

"It will have to wait, Linaire." Celis' voice was harsh, her words abrupt. Her visitor studied the two young women with silent interest.

"We won't wait any longer." Linaire stood her ground defiantly. "This is a message from your husband. Bes and I saw part of it; enough to know that he and General Kenobi have lost half their troops, and one Jedi. We had to know about our husbands!"

"I'm sorry,I am," Celis sighed, not at all surprised at the news. "I would have told you if anything had happened to your husbands, I swear it!" "We don't wish to discuss this in the presence of strangers!" Bes protested in alarm. Even Linaire looked at the tall woman nervously.

"It's alright. Sit down, please." Celis urged. "This is Senator Aerolone Mothma. She is here to discuss the Jedi as well as what will happen to Alderaan should this war end as we fear. Sit down, both of you. This will take some time"

Aerolone returned home with a sinking feeling of dread, and the atmosphere on Radiaa did little to improve her spirits. Was it her imagination, or had the security personnel been increased at the spaceport? Every face she saw looked nervous, worried. She had heard more than she'd anticipated on Alderaan; about the war, about the Jedi - her head rang with it.

The ride to the villa went by in a blur and the first thing Aerolone did after arriving home was contact her husband at his offices.

"Welcome home, darling!" The mere sight of Tajerh's handsome, smiling face made her feel better." I hope your trip was productive."

"From a certain point of view." Aerolone replied cautiously, not confident of privacy over comm channels. "How soon can you get away? I missed you."

"You did?" Tajerh waggled his eyebrows playfully. "Well, you won't miss me tonight! Get some rest, you'll need it. I have one more meeting, then I'll be home."

"Meeting?" Panic was beginning to creep into her voice. "I checked your schedule, Taj, you don't have any meetings planned for this evening."

"No, I didn't," he admitted," But Sinilau and Palpatine have some urgent matter to discuss."

"At the last minute?" Aerolone snapped. "I don't trust either of them. Promise me you won't meet alone with them."

"Be reasonable, Aerolone," He countered. "I have to meet privately with them. It won't take long, don't worry."

But Aerolone couldn't help but worry. As the hours dragged by, she began to believe that those would be the last words she would ever hear from her husband.

Her worst fears vanished when Tajerh walked in smiling. Dack was tucked in and the night stretched out long and peaceful before them. They were newlyweds again, discovering each other for the first time. Years, politics, all disappeared in a night of love and passion.

"What would I do without you?" Aerolone surprised her husband with such a wistful remark. Her face was nestled on his chest as he stroked her hair.

"I'm not going anywhere, my love." He yawned. "So you'll never have to find out."

"I know, she whispered," but why do I feel as though we're running out of time, somehow? It's morbid, Taj, I..."

He put a finger to her lips. "We have years, Aerolone. We'll watch our son grow, do all the things we've planned - get out of politics! I'll buy you your own little planetoid somewhere. How does that sound? Aren't you looking forward to sleeping with a creaking old man in about 70 years?"

She started laughing; first at the thought of the two of them idle and wrinkled, then because his cold hand on her back tickled.

"Only 70 years more?" Aerolone sighed, content. "I'm sorry, darling. It's just that Alderaan depressed me so. Organa's wife trying to cope, and those poor young women. I just want it to be over, Taj."

"It will be. " He promised, gathering Aerolone tightly in his arms and closing his eyes. "It will be."

Sometime later in the night the small comm console in the Mothma's bedroom signaled an incoming transmission. Tajerh woke and took the call; not thinking it at all unusual to be summoned in the middle of the night. After all, half the planet was awake and busy while he slept.

These people weren't on the opposite side of the planet, however. If they had been, Tajerh would have insisted on a morning meeting.

Dissident leaders, more trouble brewing than could be discussed over the comm...would Mothma meet with them? After the Sorens affair, who else could be trusted with such an explosive situation? it would only take a few hours.

Tajerh dressed, took a few moments to leave Aerolone a message, then kissed his sleeping wife and hurried to the landcruiser.

When morning dawned, the baby's crying woke Aerolone even though she knew Marcea would tend to her grandson promptly. Rested and content, she stretched luxuriously and turned to find herself quite alone in the huge bed. Suspecting nothing amiss, she rose reluctantly then noticed a short message printed across the comm monitor.

"Darling, Dodonna has some emergency related to our activists. I've gone to talk with them near the spaceport. Should be back before breakfast.I love ."

The message was over five hours old.

Paralyzed, her eyes scanned the words again and again. Could it have been so pitifully easy? Had her beloved husband simply walked into the hands of their enemies? The terror pulsed through Aerolone in waves; trembling realization wrenched her heart and tore through her throat in strangled gasps. Aerolone began to scream; her mad, tortured shrieks echoed through the house. Jan Dodonna had just arrived on Alderaan as she was leaving. He would be there for days.  
If Aerolone had known what happened to Tajerh in those hours as she slept peacefully, it would have destroyed her sanity.

Jan Dodonna was, indeed, on Alderaan; something Tajerh had no way of knowing. Retaining an unshakable faith in the decency of the beings he expected to meet; the Senator suspected nothing insidious as he arrived at the run-down warehouse. The fledgling bands of activists were necessarily cautious about who and where they met. The deserted surroundings were to be expected. Bringing a bodyguard hadn't even occurred to Tajerh.

Mothma knocked twice on the hollow metal door...waited. Something was wrong. He glanced around furtively, trying to see into the darkness beyond the dim illumi-panels on the buildings.  
From out of those shadows five figures materialized and surrounded the Senator. A large, muscular man, Tajerh was subdued after a brief but intense struggle, bound, gagged and shoved into an armored security vehicle.

Neiamas Palpatine, himself, supervised the proceedings with clinical curiosity. What he wanted was information on what his sources told him was a rebellion in the making; information he was certain that Tajerh Mothma possessed. The method employed to obtain it was savage-guaranteed to produce results.

"The Burning". Primitive, brutal and devastatingly successful. For hours, Tajerh Mothma's flesh was seared from his legs then from his arms. Two blasters set on low power were wielded with sadistic precision as Palpatine screamed questions and Tajerh just screamed.

But they were torturing a man who could not tell his captors what they wanted to know and would not implicate the one person who could-Aerolone.  
Hooded, bleeding, his body at the limit of it's endurance; Tajerh thought of Aerolone and his son. He would never see them again. Never see Dack grow, never keep his promises to Aerolone.

Even Neiamas' maniacal screeching faded as Tajerh relived the last hours he and his wife had spent together. Poor Aerolone,she had been right.  
With renewed frenzy, his torturers assaulted his body. "Who are they?" Palpatine's voice barely penetrated his pain now. "Where are they?"

He was pitiful. Some part of Tajerh's spirit wanted to laugh at the twist of fate that thwarted such ruthlessness.  
He was dying now. He felt death creeping in as his life's blood flowed out. Aerolone would be alone. He had promised her years, and now she would be alone. Tears flowed as he wept with great, heaving sobs.  
Palpatine licked his lips in pleasure. They had broken him! The great Tajerh Mothma, reduced to tears. Not begging yet; but the evil Senator was gratified.  
In the end it didn't matter as much to him that the torture had failed to produce the wanted information. His main objective had been to eliminate Mothma as a political foe and future adversary; the only obstacle to his presidency. The Senator's dealings with the annoying pro-republicans had made it simple for Palpatine to eliminate one enemy, blame it on another and so be rid of them all.

Aerolone was rushing madly to the groundlimo that waited, it's driver at the controls, to take her to the warehouse district. About to step in, she froze in shock. Another groundcar whined to a stop in a cloud of dust; a tall, ashen faced man stepped out, his black bordered robes whipping around his legs.

The look on Vanest Rienstra's face said everything. She didn't have to hear the words. Here was the harbinger of death.

"Aerolone, " He held out his arms, his voice choked with emotion. "Tajerh has been murdered." He tried to embrace her but she pulled away violently.

"NO! Let me go, I want to go to him!"

"They won't let you near the scene!" Vanest blocked the entrance to the groundlimo. "You don't know where they found him"  
"I know where he went," she snarled." I know he walked into a trap!" Hot tears began to fall." Please, I have to go to him!"

"No, Aerolone, no." The Senator held her by her shoulders." He wouldn't want you to see."

"I HAVE to see him, no matter what they've done to him! I have to know WHY!"

"Seeing won't tell you why the dissidents would want to kill a Senator. Especially Tajerh."

"The dissidents!" Aerolone clawed at Rienstra, pounding his chest as he held her shoulders firmly. He looked to the villa's entrance where Tajerh's mother-in-law stood holding his infant son, weeping." NEIAMAS has done this! Only Tajerh stood in his way! He wants to be President, nothing will stop him! Don't any of you fools see it? He wants to be dictator...EMPEROR!"

Aerolone slid to her knees, weak and choking with sobs. She pounded the gravel with her fists. "He'll pay for this! He'll pay!" Her tortured cries rent the air." Tajerrhh!" Overcome, the tall black man knelt beside her.  
"Come, Aerolone,■ He whispered, brushing tears from his own eyes." I'll take you to him."

* * * *  
The end of the Clone Wars was nearer than even those involved suspected. While Kenobi and Skywalker began their search for Darth Vader, Celis Organa completed the largest construction project ever undertaken on Alderaan.

The people of that planet, so accustomed to neutrality, had no more reason to suspect it's construction than it's possible need.

In those last days of naivete, Alderaan was all two young refugees, anxiously awaiting their first children, could desire. Confident that they were safe, believing that Celis Organa and Senator Mothma would no longer withhold information that affected them, Bes and Linaire began to relax-feel at home.

They also became better acquainted with members of the Court, especially Bail Organa's personal equerry. Einar Antilles spent most of his time working on 'the project', but occasionally his wife and child visited Alderaan.

At little over two, Wedge was a dynamo. Even among the children of the aides and staff who resided in the Palace-all older and larger-Antilles' son dominated the play area. For several hours each day, Linaire and Bes were surrounded by bright, laughing children who kept them busy with endless questions when they weren't begging for stories.

Surprisingly enough, Bes' patience never wore thin, as Linaire's did, in the midst of such clamor and activity.

Both women usually helped each other with needlework while watching the little ones give the droid supervising their play a bad time. Today, Bes had not yet come down, and Linaire found herself the center of interest.

"Can your baby hear?" A chubby five year old girl peered up at her through a fringe of red hair. "It must be awful in there...all dark! I could sing, if it can hear."

"Of course it can hear." Linaire smiled. She eased herself onto a garden bench, letting out a long breath." And very soon the baby will be here, and you can hold it and see it, and the baby will see you!"

"I don' wanna see it!" Wedge grimaced as he stopped with a handful of dirt. His own pudgy face and dark hair were already streaked with it. "Babies ugly, and them cry an cry. I can fly , watch me! Watch!"

He was off again, zooming through the other children tossing his mud bombs, making engine noises that gave Linaire chills.

The toddler nearly collided with Bes who was carefully sidestepping his scattering targets as they dodged his mud. She counteracted with a handful of loose dirt, then burst out laughing. After the surprise wore off, so did Wedge.  
Bes sat next to Linaire with a groan, wiping her hands on her gown as the little boy tore off across the garden on another imaginary mission. "Are you sure you want a boy ?"

"Not one like him!" Linaire sighed." Can you imagine a little terror like that experimenting with levitation?"

Bes laughed aloud at that. She hoped at least one of her babies would be a boy; but the gender wasn't as important as their inheritance of the force. "Well, he'd never be bored," Bes replied. "Or boring."

"Don't you wish you'd looked at the records, just once?" Linaire asked wistfully. She certainly regretted not reviewing the medical records of the infants and their progress.

"No," Bes answered, slightly embarrassed by her old-fashioned attitude. "I want to be surprised. Whatever they are ,I'll be happy."

"So will I," Linaire agreed, patting her protruding abdomen; but she wanted a son.

Einar's little tornado bounded by again, still playing space pilot at the top of his lungs. This time with 'wingmen'. "But I hope he'll be quiet, like me." Linaire sighed. Both women laughed at that.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV Somewhere between the void of space and the substance of reality organics call time, the ultimate collision of adversaries was once again underway. With deft precision, the opponents chose and manipulated. Already, Darkness had the advantage of time and positioning. It had it's man.

Men, rather. With so many evil-hearted beings to choose from, Darkness divided it's attention, explored many possibilities. For the present.

The most valuable acquisition was the faltering Jedi; for so powerful a piece was not often won. Ambition had prepared the field. Fertilized by impatience, the seeds of corruption took root and throve. Ah, yes! the Jedi Vader had been willing prey. Neiamas Palpatine required no effort whatever.

In that shrewd, opportunistic politician, Darkness encountered as inherently evil a being as it had through the millennia. Almost as insatiable as Evil Incarnate; loyalty, compassion, morality and honor were alien concepts to Palpatine. Weaknesses. He welcomed Darkness with open arms; knowing that he would be the weapon with which it would conquer history itself. Nothing, no one would be it's equal! Light had yet to choose a champion and, by the time it did, Darkness would rule with absolute vengeance. Vader would serve to procure the Kaiburr; with it, Palpatine's transformation would be complete. He would cease to exist, as would the passage of knowledge regarding the Visetas. Darkness would enter history in this small galaxy, animate, unconquerable.

Here, in an insignificant corner of an endless universe, the last of the Amidaa would fail. It was their destiny. Truth as powerful as what they taught had no place among such inferior beings. Yes. Darkness expected to triumph again, to rule this galaxy. Perhaps for eternity.

**********

Obi-Wan feared that above all else. With every breath he took, the Jedi strove for some edge, a glimmer of light to guide him. And he saw.. but it was not enough, and the battle was not his alone. The only weapon available now was knowledge and Anakin Skywalker had to be armed with it if they were to be successful.

While Avernus was still a cold light in the distance, Obi-Wan told his pupil what his teacher had revealed to him long before. Not all, for the Jedi had learned through the years that the gift of knowledge was best bestowed only when, and if, necessary. What he told Anakin Skywalker was what he needed to know, nothing more. The founders of the Jedi brotherhood had come from the unimaginable reaches of the universe. Where and when was unimportant. Only the why mattered. Beings of energy, capable of assuming whatever physical form they wished, the ancient missionaries called themselves the Amidaa. Specifics had been lost through time and translation, but the original twelve had gone from galaxy to galaxy, teaching the understanding and use of the life-force called the Visetas. Because each galaxy, each race was different. The Amidaa employed a crystal.

It's origin was even more obscure than the Amidaa. Natural or mystic, it had existed as long as the Amidaa. The stone was said to be a filter of sorts, an amplifier, enabling the apprentices to explore the Visetas on their own level. Kenobi saw shadows of doubt and mistrust cross his pupil's face. Skywalker was studying him with suspicion and growing anger, but Obi-Wan continued.

The crystal, after the fledgling brotherhood in previous galaxies had been lost to the Dark, was suspected to be too dangerous to use. No race had been able to employ it without losing control of it-and themselves. Vader had little control to begin with; with the crystal, he could cause irreparable harm and another galaxy could fall prey to Darkness. Anakin Skywalker listened in rapt fascination as his mentor told of the last of the Amidaa arriving in his galaxy, hiding the crystal, and beginning anew to establish the principles and power they believed in; never once trusting the human disciples with so powerful and unpredictable a tool. The brotherhood of the Jedi seemed to be the Amidaa's greatest accomplishment. Now, with darkness upon the galaxy, the Jedi were being eliminated, slowly but surely, as the Amidaa had.

"It is unspeakably powerful," Obi Wan intoned gravely. "An unshielded channel to the Force. Too dangerous for anyone who has not fully mastered the Force...or himself." All this Kenobi explained to Anakin Skywalker and the young man believed and accepted guidance without question, but Kenobi doubted that he fully comprehended. Perhaps, he didn't need to. First Vader, their friend, must be saved. Keep the man in mind, Kenobi advised; the soul in jeopardy. Skywalker agreed. The larger view frightened him, and fear, he had been taught, was the great paralyzer.

He would accompany his Master to where Vader had gone; there, they would use the love they felt for him to draw him back from the brink of damnation. It was the only lifeline they could offer. If it held, they would save Vader, perhaps buy time. But, if the bonds of friendship, the brotherhood of the Jedi did not prove strong enough, that lifeline would break. Vader would be lost, forever. Kenobi and Skywalker prayed it would be enough. They knew what Vader would take with him if it were not. Landing their battered pocket cruiser on the volcanic surface of Avernus, the two Jedi took a few moments to prepare themselves mentally.

In the distance, perhaps a kilometer away, was Vader's ship-a converted freighter. Steam and sparks curled from the cracks in Avernus' surface, giving the eerie terrain all the appeal of an inferno. Vader was nowhere in sight.

Anakin waited beneath the freighter as Kenobi checked inside. The open hatch, the disheveled interior over which a fine layer of ash had settled, told of an abrupt departure. Vader had been gone for some time.

"We must hurry." Kenobi announced as he joined Skywalker. both men gazed out across the erupting landscape. "Anakin?" Kenobi's face was lined with thoughts unspoken. "Do you believe what I have told you? I am depending on you to be unwavering, centered. Only together can we hope to turn Vader away from the Dark Side."

Skywalker nodded; but the image of Darth murdering a bound prisoner, then turning on Obi-Wan, persisted. It was a vision of rapid degeneration. Anakin found it hard to believe such malevolence would leave even a shadow of the flawed, but decent, man his friend had been. That Kenobi had not despaired of his redemption was all that buoyed his confidence. "General," He ventured finally, " How can you be so certain he has not made the final turn, either on Isua or in this terrible place?"

"There must be a conscious choice between the Dark and Light path," the grim faced Jedi replied. Obi-Wan knew that much to be true, at least. He had trained Vader. He would now have to confront him, force the choice. Whether or not Darkness had influenced Darth, the Jedi he still was would have to choose.

"Had he been lost he would not have returned to the camp, he would have slain me. No, Anakin, there is a small spark of Light left in Darth yet; but he is close, very close."

Skywalker saw him first, stalking across the tortured landscape. His cloak ignited as it trailed in a rivulet of molten lava and Vader flung the garment from his shoulders as he quickened his pace. He had found what he wanted; now he was returning to his ship, and heading directly toward the two Jedi.

A far off volcano belched soot, coloring the sky with a weird incandescence; the ground shook with an ominous rumble. Kenobi and Skywalker had to gather their robes about them as they strode purposefully across ever-widening fissures.

"Darth!" Obi-Wan called out.

Anakin wiped perspiration from his face and peered through the acrid haze. He saw Vader look up and hardly recognized the man he had called friend for years. Reluctance began to cloud Skywalker's resolve; flashes of disaster ripped through his brain and out again. Evil itself stomped resolutely toward them, it's very presence more overpowering than the heat of the inferno they had landed on.

Good thoughts...pleasant images, Kenobi had instructed. Anakin let them come. His wife, so beautiful; he could hear her laugh, feel her small hands on his face. Love...so much love. The two Jedi blocked Vader's path. Kenobi was breathing hard. He slowly extended his hand. "Give it to me, son."

The Kaiburr crystal Vader held protectively against his chest glowed the color of blood and fire; smaller than he'd expected it to be, Anakin's eyes were drawn to it nonetheless. Skywalker marveled at Kenobi's calm control. he could feel the Force flowing from him. But, this time, it wasn't enough. If the man they had known was within the corrupt being who glowered at them, he was unrecognizable. Vader stepped drunkenly to the right, avoiding Kenobi's penetrating gaze. Anakin stood rock steady before him.

"In the Force's name, man," he pleaded with his friend," think of what you're doing. It's dangerous. Give him the crystal!"

Vader's dark eyes narrowed, raking contemptuously over Skywalker then fixing on the infinitely calm General. " Now the Jedi want it! Take it!" He sneered,  
"If you dare!" "I dare!" Skywalker took an impulsive step forward, but Kenobi restrained him. This time he spoke words Anakin did not understand, then looked down before taking a step toward Vader. "It knows we cannot take it from him. Darth must give it. He must choose!" Anakin stared in horrified fascination at the complex exchange. Whatever was happening, it was clear that Obi-Wan was relying too much on spiritual tactics. What was he planning to do if Vader chose the Dark? Skywalker was becoming confused now. Vader could not be reasoned with, couldn't Kenobi see that? Was it so difficult for his master to admit defeat? Neither of them could compel Darth to turn from Darkness; this was a confrontation that could only end in death.

The ground beneath their feet began to shudder, and tiny sinuous cracks began to widen. For a split second, some shadow of the Jedi Vader had been flashed across his chiseled face.

"This is true power!" He growled. "I want it! "Don't try to stop me, either of you! You're nothing!" The entire planet was in upheaval now. Obi-Wan erect posture went slack. Vader had chosen; Skywalker sensed it and the knowledge hit Kenobi with a terrible finality.

"You can't choose, can you Darth? "Anakin took another approach. "I know you. It's not too late."

Kenobi, too, thought he sensed a weakening. "Come with us!" He urged.

"No, Kenobi," Vader grinned maniacally," I willfully consign my soul to the Dark, knowing I take yours with me...as I shall now take your life!" In a reflective, defensive, gesture Kenobi's hand flashed to his lightsaber. The Jedi weapon, had Kenobi been able to ignite it, would have been no match for the Kaiburr. Lethal bolts of energy erupted from Vader's right hand, forcing Obi-Wan to the ground.

Instantly, Skywalker's saber was arcing through the air, coming down in a blur on Vader's wrist. An inhuman howl rent the air as the mutilated Jedi shoved the stone into his tunic and drew his own lightsaber.

Before he could get to his feet, Kenobi watched in horror as the ground heaved violently and the two combatants disappeared into a fiery crevice. "Anakin!" He screamed, staggering to the edge of the still widening fissure.

It was over...and he was to blame. Both Jedi were dead. Anakin, their greatest hope, gone when he was most needed. Anakin-in whom the Force shone so brightly that Kenobi had been blinded to his own faults by it. Lost...wasted. And Darth...a soul damned forever.

Avernus' crust was fracturing, the air thickening with ash, poisonous gas and black soot that billowed from the distant volcano. Obi-Wan plucked Skywalker's lightsaber from the rocks, looked at it numbly. "ANAKIN!" He screamed, over and over, wanting more than anything to hear or see some sign of life in the rising steam. there was none-just a crushing sense of evil.

* * * *

On Radiaa, an ornate state funeral was held for Tajerh Mothma; attended by dignitaries from across the galaxy, all shocked and horrified by his brutal murder. The 'murderers' had been dealt with swiftly and justly, to be sure. The Security Agency had seen to that.

Aerolone and Rienstra had arrived at the scene in time to see the warehouse burning out of control. Inside were fifteen 'dissidents' who, the official story would be, fired on the Security agents after a search of the premises revealed the Senator's landcruiser hidden in a storage area; his body inexpertly concealed in a smaller compartment of the vehicle.  
In terror and panic, realizing they had been framed, the dissidents fought for their lives. The firefight left four of the eight agents dead. Orders were then given to set fire to the building. That would force the terrorists out! What Palpatine had ordered, and what the fire had destroyed all evidence of, was the securely locked doors.

Drowning in grief, Aerolone Mothma watched as the officials, alien diplomats and Senators filed past the lifeless body of her husband as he lay in state.

The very fact that he was on view at all had caused an uproar in the Senate; especially among Tajerh's friends, who considered it inhumane. Here Aerolone stepped in and, much to the surprise of those who thought to shield her, insisted that Tajerh be seen. She would not allow herself the comfort of denial and she wanted everyone-especially Neiamas Palpatine- to see what had been done to her husband. And she never wanted to forget. As if in a trance, Aerolone sat to the right of her husband's casket; her mother sat beside her, weeping. Behind them sat Celis Organa and the two young women Aerolone had met on Alderaan. Little Dack slept peacefully on Marcea's lap, oblivious to the fact that he was now fatherless.

When the politicians and visiting emissaries finished filing past and murmuring their formal regrets it would be time for the common citizens to pay their final respects to the late Senator.

Tajerh's reputation had been an enviable one. No elected official had ever been so widely respected and admired, even by those who had not agreed with his analytical approach to politics. Some were weeping openly for the loss of a fair and honorable Senator; others for the loss of a friend. The last dignitary had whispered words of comfort to Aerolone, and the guards stood ready to allow the waiting masses to enter, when a flurry of activity at another entrance distracted everyone. The doors flung wide; a cadre of guards entered, followed by two Senators, their blue and white robes bright amid the grey and brown uniforms. The sight of them made Aerolone Mothma tremble with rage.

These were the bootlickers, the 'yes' men. Behind them, draped in black and making his first, official grand entrance, was the Senate's new President, Neiamas Palpatine.

Mothma watched the procession, unmoving, stonefaced. The usurper had come to flaunt his power. The executioner, Aerolone thought venomously, come to console his victim's widow. he would not dare... But Aerolone knew that he would. She rose deliberately, walked to the casket. If Palpatine intended to play the sympathetic colleague, if he could be perverse and hypocritical enough to posture before a man he had murdered, then he would face her. She would look into the eyes of her enemy, and he into the eyes of his. The two Senators kept a safe distance from her glare; but Palpatine approached. the beneficent president, gracious and effusively pretentious. Rather than attempt to embrace Aerolone sympathetically-the look on her face dissuaded him- Palpatine turned to face the assembled mourners.

"My fellow citizens of the galaxy!" He emoted, spreading his arms wide. "We join together in our sadness to honor and bid farewell to a great man. Senator Tajerh Mothma will be forever remembered for his personal courage and unflinching sense of justice. He was a noble being." Revulsion washed over Aerolone; she turned away, steadying herself by gripping the coffin's edge. As she stared at the face of her dead husband, Palpatine droned on. "I, more than any, other than his family, feel a deep sense of loss at the untimely death of Senator Mothma. Had he not been taken so suddenly from us, he was to have been my Archon. Only he could have filled such a sensitive, vital position. Only he will ever be granted that badge of office." Palpatine turned with a flourish, reached beneath the folds of his elegant robes and withdrew an ornate medallion attached to a shimmering ribbon. He made a great spectacle of placing the decoration on Mothma's lifeless body. It was a masterful move, just the touch of pathos and drama needed to portray Palpatine as a statesman. The hall echoed with sobs. Aerolone could feel the wave of approval for this most reprehensible of acts. Fury welled and exploded within her. He eyes were welded to her husband's body and the mockery Palpatine had inflicted upon it.

The President eyes glittered with darkly veiled satisfaction as he completed his official charade. "You have my heartfelt sympathies, Senator." He announced. "Please do not hesitate to approach your President if you or your little family requires any assistance." He paused a moment longer, for appearances, beside the deceased, then turned toward the crowd of dignitaries and media.

Only Marcea fully realized what the display had done to her daughter; but she had no idea of what to say to her. She felt inadequate, overwhelmed by the enormity of all, as she cradled her grandson. The baby was beginning to stir. "Please, Lady Organa," She turned to the solemn woman behind her." go to her, before there is a confrontation."

Celis nodded. She, too, feared that Aerolone would accuse Palpatine openly. Even her grief and understandable mental condition would not excuse such a scene. "Aerolone ?" Celis whispered as he joined her at the casket. She put an arm around the younger woman. "Come,sit awhile. The baby is awake. Come...do not torture yourself." Aerolone wasn't listening. Her face was a mask of hatred as her fingers shredded the gaudy ribbon the President had left. Only Celis could see as she destroyed the obscenity just as, she vowed to herself, she would one day destroy the monster it represented.

Celis tried to block the other mourner's view, lest anyone see what Aerolone was doing. Long fingers tore the flimsy ribbon, wadding the remnants and concealing them in one hand while she crushed the delicate medal it had been attached to with the other. A long line of people had begun filing in and Aerolone moved away from the coffin with her head held high. There was no hint of collapse, no wavering in her stride as she rejoined her mother. She sat down quietly, dropping the ruined medal to the floor, grinding it hard beneath her heel.

Palpatine and his retinue entered the reception area as Celis Organa watched with interest. In all of her years on the throne of Alderaan, she had seen many men consumed with ambition; individuals who curried favor and attention only to betray those who had promoted them once their goals were reached. She knew the shrewd look, the slick ruthless facade; but Palpatine was unique-and disturbing.

Ambition should not have taken a barely capable junior Senator to the Senate Presidency. There was something else, something chillingly alien about him. Opinion still mattered, appearances still mattered.  
Palpatine wasn't finished with his plan.

For Linaire and Besantilier, the State funeral was a matter of etiquette. It also meant-to Linaire at least-a chance to overhear the political views of the movers and shakers of the galaxy. Both women also felt Aerolone Mothma's pain and devastation. Each saw herself in Aerolone's position; raising children without their husbands, spending life alone with memories.  
Before the last of the mourners had filed past, Aerolone took her baby to the reception area, accompanied by Einar Antilles. After a few, unavoidable, words with fellow Senators and their families, Aerolone saw an opportunity to corner Palpatine. He had entered a small ante-room, accompanied by a single aide. Shifting Dack to her hip, Aerolone swiftly pushed her way through the milling dignitaries to stop in the doorway facing the two men.

"I wish to speak to the President alone." She announced. The aide looked to Palpatine. "Leave us." Palpatine smiled. "I am honored to have you come to me in your time of grief, my dear."

"You dare say that to my face!" Aerolone shot back. "You surprise me, Neiamas. Even here, with no witnesses, you carry on the charade!"

"I shall dare more than you can imagine!" He smiled icily. "I excuse you now, because you are distraught, Senator; but I am the elected President! You would be wise to keep that in mind. Even a member of the High Council cannot be allowed to undermine my authority."

"You pompous little wretch!" Aerolone sneered. "You have gained your empty title by murder!"

"Now you speak treason!" Neiamas warned.

"Is truth treason?" Aerolone riposted." Then treason shall be my life. You shall never make a move that I do not oppose; but you will never entrap me as you did my trusting husband! By your own decree you have assured my safety!" Palpatine whirled, his face twisted with evil. "Your pathetic husband died protecting you, didn't he?!" His eyes were mere slits in his pale face; his thin lips compressed in fury. Some small revenge, Aerolone thought. The first blow, only the first.

She put the baby to her shoulder and fixed Palpatine with a gaze as cold and calculating as his own.

"Squirm, Neiamas," She declared ominously." Worry and wonder, and know this-even now, your enemies are plotting your downfall! This is personal. This is war." Palpatine seethed as he watched Aerolone leave the room and disappear into the reception area. He left moments later, trailed by his bodyguards, for the safety of his residence.

*******

Linaire and Besantilier were jostled aside as the crowd parted for the President's entourage; both tried unsuccessfully for a better look. Palpatine had reached the exit when a jolt of pure terror struck to his very soul. Something....some one ...was here. Danger he could not place. Power.

Where? The Darkness in him could not tell; but it knew, for the first time, the fear of death.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

Three heavily armored battle cruisers emerged from hyperspace just outside the Alderaan system.

"This can't be right." A surprised first officer on the flagship Immolator turned to his tall, skeletal commander. "There had to have been a mistake in the coordinates programming. This is Alderaan"  
"Indeed it is." Eschai Tarkin smiled with satisfaction. He stood at the ships bridge, hungrily eyeing his path to infamy." A world of cowards, whose shield of neutrality is about to crumble."

"But our orders..."

"Do as you were told, Lieutenant!" Tarkin snapped. "We answer to no one, save the President." Tarkin turned back toward the viewport. "And he answers to no one at all."

In wedge formation; the Immolator on point, the Corses and the Typhon at her sides, the Imperial ships began firing on an unsuspecting Alderaan. Concentrated laser fire randomly snaked across the planet's surface, leaving paths of death and destruction. Supremely confident of his conquest, Tarkin had begun his attack leisurely. Leisurely, simply waiting for Alderaan's rotation to present him with his ultimate target. For a few moments he reveled in the wanton terror his weapons must have been causing on the planet below. It was, he mused, much like a game of Vector . He had only to wait for the capital city to come into his line of fire. These few minutes of target practice gave him pleasure. It also gave the planet's leaders time to surrender.

* * *

Celis Organa's worst nightmare was coming true; and it hadn't taken long for Neiamas Palpatine to strike back at Aerolone Mothma through the planet she represented. Mere days.

Celis, Besantilier and Linaire had been summoned from their private box during a performance of the Royal Academy of Dance, Linaire listened intently as Celis conferred with her Defense Minister and Einar Antilles. Bes sank back into the limo's cushioned seat, trying to block out the voices.

"Thon was hit badly." The Minister recounted grim statistics. "Hundreds of thousands are dead on Ilmanin, your Majesty. They're just sitting out there... waiting!"

"The arrogant bastards!" Antilles swore. "They think we're defenseless!"

"We would have been, except for your wisdom."

The Defense Minister looked to Celis for encouragement. She had none to give. Following Bail's suggestion, Celis had authorized the construction of a massive, ionic laser dish just outside the Capital. Organa had surmised, rightly , that should Alderaan be attacked the aggressors would want the capital intact. Invasionary forces would be landed at the spaceports within hours, and the entire planet would be subjugated. Celis had prayed that her husband would be wrong; but wagered the freedom of her people on the assumption that he was right.

Now all their fears were confirmed; but no one had foreseen the events as they were now occurring. To watch as the unprotected half of Alderaan became a target area! Knowing that people were dying took it's toll on everyone in the command center. It had looked so good, so efficient, as an abstract plan. Celis dealt well with abstracts. Now that she had to act on reality, not concept, bail Organa's wife was being torn between her intellect and her emotions.

A supremely confident voice was being received on the palace comm. in ten minutes, by Tarkin's calculations, Alderaan would be his. Now that he had gotten their attention, he would force a humiliating, formal surrender.

"They expect us to surrender." Antilles bit each word off sharply. Celis Organa sat stiffly at the huge control console that dominated the reinforced operations bunker beneath the palace.

"We have to make our first shot count. "She spoke softly. "We may not get a second. I suppose we are fortunate there are only three."

"The activation coding has begun." The Defense Minister announced.

* * *

In a far corner Besantilier trembled in terror, wringing her hands as a feeling of cold dread settled over the bunker. Alderaan was being attacked; her babies were in danger.

On the tracking monitors those ships looked formidable and Tarkin's smug voice droned on as both sides waited for perfect alignment.

The firing mechanism on the giant laser dish had been designed to be activated in stages, as a safeguard. The initial code was known only to the Defense Minister. Now, as the seconds sped by, Einar Antilles added his portion. All eyes were fixed on the ashen face of Celis Organa as the tracking controllers called out the rapidly narrowing margin between target and weapon.

During the entire proceedings. Linaire had remained with Bes, trying to calm both their fears. Now that the tension in the room had charged the air. Linaire pushed through the scientists and analysts who stood like statues watching approaching doom with silent disbelief.

'...surrender or be destroyed. You have one minute before bombardment of the capital begins." Tarkin looked to his first officer and smiled. Victory and glory belonged to those who would seize them; as they were about to seize the galaxy's most prestigious world.

Prayers were being murmured in the command center as Celis keyed in the final code. A sharp siren sounded; the ion cannon was ready for firing.

"We're all going to die!" Besantilier lost the last vestige of control and flung herself toward the reinforced blast doors. "This is a tomb! Let me out! My babies must live!" Frantically she tried all the door controls as Antilles tried to draw her away.

"Please, my Lady!"Einar tried to calm the distraught woman. "The safest place is here."

"You don't care!" Bes screamed. "Your family isn't going to die! Take me out, Einar. If anyone can save my children, you can!"

"Three seconds." The computer announced.

Celis' finger froze above the firing button. "I can't do it."She whispered. "Bail..."

"Two seconds." Came the automated voice.

"For all our lives," The Defense Minister pleaded," Fire!"

Jolted into action, Linaire's voice startled them all. "Die you bastards!" As she screamed, her hand came down over Celis. Tracking sensors working perfectly, the laser dish emitted a meter wide bolt that streaked skyward.

"Your time is up!" Tarkin's voice snarled over the comm unit. "Alderaan is ours!"

If Tarkin hadn't been so intent on destroying Alderaan, he would have routinely scanned the surface and the bolt that struck , and hulled, the Immolator would never have been. Neither would the following two; they hit and destroyed the Corses and reduced the Typhon to a burning hulk.

As the remains of the three attack ships drifted into space, the command center on Alderaan was eerily quiet. Only Bes, sobbing, softly, could be heard.

"It's over. "The Defense Minister finally spoke. Celis put an arm around the still trembling Linaire. "Over?" She murmured in disbelief. "It's only begun."

* * * * *

It was a different man who rejoined Bail Organa's fleet. The Jedi General, returning alone, looked as though he had escaped the fires of hell and bore the scars.

Organa waited for the saucer shaped freighter's boarding ramp to lower. An ominous feeling came over the Admiral as the decontam crew began checking Vader's ship.

Through the elongated viewport, Bail could see Kenobi, motionless. Fearing that his friend might be seriously wounded, the Admiral motioned for the emergency team. Before the hatch could be cut open, it lowered; and armed search squad proceeded Organa into the ship.

The interior was deathly quiet. Skywalker and Vader were nowhere to be seen. The only light came from the ships bridge. As the door slid aside, the pilot's chair turned slowly. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at Organa with eyes as old as the stars.

"I've lost them both, my friend," The Jedi whispered." Anakin and Darth."

"They're dead?" the Admiral gasped as he sunk into the navigator's seat.

The silence was deafening. Kenobi was a man lost in a nightmare of his own making. "Far worse than dead. I could not turn Vader and Anakin lost his life because of my weakness."

"I grieve with you, my friend," Bail shook his head sadly. This was a devastating blow indeed." But we cannot take time for our own sorrows. We must go on."

"Your faith is stronger than I thought," Ben smiled sadly. "Hold fast to it. It will guide you through the dark times to come."

"Darker than this?" Organa ran his fingers through his hair, expelling fatigue and frustration with a deep sigh. "Our cause is lost, Ben. The Republic...we will continue to fight, but...over four thousand were lost in this last campaign. Were they wasted? Do any of us even remember what we fight for?"

Kenobi closed his eyes momentarily, as if preparing himself ,mentally before he spoke. Then he leaned forward, intent.

"You never really knew." He began enigmatically." We are in the wrong place at the wrong time, my friend; and there is more at stake than the Republic. Much more. But, I can do no more. I must go."

"Go?" Bail countered angrily. "What hope is there if a Jedi would run?" Now, when help was needed most, Bail Organa-the Admiral- simply could not fathom Kenobi, the man he most admired, leaving. And Ben knew that he could not.

"I do not know where hope is; but it is not here and it is not now." The Jedi sighed. "I tell you I can do nothing now. All I can do is wait."

"Then you will wait on Alderaan," Organa replied firmly. "You are right. Save yourself. If no one else survives the Jedi must. Go to Celis, Obi-Wan, help her. You will be safe on Alderaan. this madness is near it's end. If the Force ordains it, I shall join you there."

The Jedi studied his friend; feeling his anguish, his sad resignation. Neither of them had dreamed they would see the Republic end so tragically. Neither of them wanted to believe that all the courage and sacrifice of beings of justice and honor would not be enough to save it.

Organa rose, as did Kenobi. They embraced, saying goodbye; two mourners of a way of life that was dying. Obi-Wan held the younger man by the shoulders.

They were two warriors who hated war. It was not in either of their natures to accept defeat; and it was vital that Bail Organa look for another kind of victory.

"It's not our fight any longer, Bail. We are good warriors, you and I, but in your heart I know you are a man of peace. Our time is past; we could all sacrifice ourselves and it would come to nothing now. The Force is being manipulated on a higher level than ever before. All the galaxy could not prevail against it until the time is right. Even then it may fall to one." Kenobi stopped, as though trying to see beyond to what would come, but the images would not clear.

"One?" Organa was puzzled." You?"

"No," Kenobi replied. "The Light itself will choose it's champion. We can only pray that we live to see who it chooses."

* * * * *

The bodies lay deep in a lava filled crevice, as Avernus' major volcano destroyed itself in a spectacular explosion. One man stirred. Barely conscious.  
He screamed in the deathly silence as black ash began to fall upon him. In torturous jerks, he moved his arm, crawled his bloody fingers beneath his clothing. Milliseconds from death, Darth Vader placed the glowing crystal in the charred hands of Anakin Skywalker. He had given his life for the thing; he would not give his soul.

Closing his eyes at last, he felt free.

Death deprived Darkness of a valuable tool, and it forced it to concentrate all it's attention on a much more reliable participant.

The galaxy's new President slept, protected by a hand picked squad of guards. He slept, and he dreamed; and in his shadowy dreams there was no need to consider image or opinion. Just power, and great, dark glory.

A mind and soul already so corrupt welcomed the Darkness that penetrated his core. Not like the Jedi whose body it had abandoned in a pit of fire. That one had resisted, until the confrontation with the two men...the other Jedi. They had almost overcome it there. Almost. They were strong, those disciples of the Amidaa; especially the younger man.

They no longer mattered. Only the crystal did; but the Jedi had taken it with him to his doom. Palpatine! Palpatine would use it! Palpatine would get it.

* * * *

By every estimation Anakin Skywalker should have been dead.

He felt as though he had died when the steam and lava and boiling gases ignited his clothing, then ate away at his skin and hair. Then the pain overcame consciousness. Only an iron will had kept his destroyed body alive. He would not succumb to death. Skywalker refused to meet death as his training had prepared him to do. But the pain made him mad-scoured his brain of all control. Sanity dissolved in the roiling lava that consumed his flesh. Over and over he screamed for help, but no help came. He could not move, could not see; but far worse was the abandonment. He could sense nothing-no comforting presence through the Force. His friend, his teacher, had deserted him.

Anakin screamed in horror and rage as he lost consciousness. But the Kaiburr was doing it's work; for the Force that nourished Skywalker's will to live activated it.

Seared eyelids opened slowly, looking up through clouds of steam to see four hooded figures, meters above the on the fissures edge. All feeling was gone from Anakin's extremities; he couldn't even feel the crystal around which his fingers were fused. All that he could sense was that he was being lifted, at last, from certain death. Lifted toward the shrouded forms at the surface.

The Jedi? Had Kenobi returned after all? Anakin Skywalker was being saved, nothing else mattered. He would live! To those who were granting him life, he would owe everything.

* * * *

"SHE'S GONE!"

Linaire's hands were shaking as she operated the comm console switches. She had searched the palace thoroughly, discovered Besantilier's suite had been emptied of all her belongings, then contacted Celis Organa at her offices.

"She must have left hours ago. I was asleep." Linaire's mind was racing; trying to think of where Bes would go. She should have anticipated it. Tarkin's surprise attack had left Besantilier an emotional wreck. Her dreams of a safe sanctuary on Alderaan had been shattered; leaving her terrified for the safety of her unborn children and desperate to escape.

Now it looked as though she had.

"Check with the servants." Celis instructed, thinking furiously." Perhaps she was taken to the medical center. Calm yourself. I don't think she would have left without saying anything, but I'll contact the spaceport."

Assembling the servants confirmed Linaire's worst fears. A young driver reported that he had taken the Lady into the city over an hour before. Celis learned the rest.

A very distraught Bes had taken a commercial shuttle to the nearby Lorinth space station. The pilot didn't know her final destination, but it was plain she intended to leave the system.

Linaire turned to a frowning Einar Antilles. "We have to stop her. She had no place to go, Antilles. She's not rational."

"I think I know where she would go." Einar volunteered. "But, if we hurry, we can stop her before she leaves the station."

* * * *

In the space station's commercial terminal Bes sat, crying, surrounded by her luggage and an oblivious crowd of aliens and humans. She had attempted, unsuccessfully, to book passage on a deep space passenger transport. Her destination was not exactly popular among the majority of travelers and no commercial carrier would divert a route or schedule to accommodate one passenger.

The only option left to her was to engage an independent pilot; but all of the credits she offered could not persuade any of the reputable captains to take a woman in her advanced condition to the outer rim.

Across the terminal, a group of Corellian pilots, young and boisterous, were trading the latest obscene jokes as they lingered over their flameouts. One of them, a tall, impeccably dressed privateer whose dark hair blended with a rakish beard, found himself glancing at the young woman despite his determination to ignore her.

"C'mon, Madine," One of his companions needled." That's the oldest trick there is. You're not gonna fall for it!"

"Look at her." Madine gestured toward the weeping woman. "Somebody should help her."

"Not me!" The other Corellian swore, downing his drink in one gulp. "She's headed to some backwater system, I've heard. Vettor made that mistake...the kid was born on his ship and he's still payin' child support!"

"Well, my ship's faster than that wreck Vettor flies and, besides," Madine shrugged," I can charge her triple!"

In moments, Besantilier was on her way to Tatooine.

* * * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi gazed out of his ship's curved viewport with a heavy heart.

Before him, gleaming blue and iridescent white against the starry background of interstellar space, was Alderaan. As far away from the ugliness of war as this place was, the Jedi felt it very much with him. They would look to him with hope when he landed; with all the hope and trust that the galaxy had placed in the Jedi for generations.

Obi-Wan would have given his life to undo the events of the past few days. It had fallen to him to be the survivor, for a purpose he could not foresee. The grim bearer of guilt that would haunt the remainder of his days and news that would alter lives.

* * * *

Celis Organa was at the spaceport's main terminal, waiting in the communications center for word from Lorinth, when an unexpected voice contacted them instead.

"Alderaan control," Obi-Wan dropped his freighter into standard approach orbit. "This is the starship Justice requesting landing clearance."

"We have you on our scopes." A controller replied efficiently.

Celis didn't recognize the ship's name, but the voice was unmistakable. "Identify yourself, Captain."

Before Kenobi could answer, Celis' voice greeted him. "Obi-Wan, is that you?" She breathed, with a sigh of relief. "The Force must have sent you! Besantilier has disappeared. Antilles thinks she has gone to Tatooine to wait for you."

"Bail has sent me, Celis." Kenobi replied gravely. "It is imperative that I land and speak with you immediately. Bes will be safe until I join her."

"You don't understand," Bail Organa's wife sounded frantic. "Bes left here terrified. We were attacked by three reform battleships without warning and, even though Bail's plan for defense saved us, Bes was badly frightened. She no longer felt safe here and her babies are due anytime. Go to her-before something terrible happens!"

Kenobi didn't need to hear any more. Without further conversation, he pulled his ship away from Alderaan. Celis watched as it faded from the tracking scopes, feeling hopeful for the first time in months.

* * * *

Tatooine was as barren and isolated a world as Rison Madine had ever seen, A few poor settlers, one ramshackle spaceport; nothing for a sane human or anyone who could afford better. Why a young noblewoman, so near to giving birth, would want to be dropped off at a crude homestead dozens of kilometers from the nearest humans, was a mystery. It wasn't his place, however, to delve into the private business of his passengers. This was a just another lucrative run.  
The tall Corellian helped the young woman with her belongings, carrying them into the sparsely furnished dwelling. It looked dusty and deserted, but the girl seemed relieved to be there.

"I can't thank you enough, Captain. "Bes smiled wearily as she pressed a large packet of credits into Madine's hand. "Your kindness has saved us. Here is the fee we agreed on, plus a thousand extra for your trouble."

In a sudden attack of conscience he didn't know he had, Madine started to protest; then he took the money reluctantly. It was bad enough that he had criminally overcharged a desperate woman, now she was giving him a bonus. There might, he thought, be something to good-deed-doing after all!

"Thank you, ma'am." He managed sheepishly. "Listen, are you sure you'll be alright, alone? I can take you into town-what passes for one anyway. I mean, you don't even have a sender."

Touched by his concern, Bes nevertheless declined the offer. She expected someone soon, she explained, sending Madine on his way, Actually, she felt very safe in Kenobi's small hut, as though she belonged in this lonely place, even though she had seen it only once before. It didn't seem like so very long ago that her husband had brought her here to meet the renowned Jedi who would train him. Now she would wait for Obi-Wan. Her faith in that Jedi was unshakable. Bes knew that he would return to Tatooine very soon; just as she knew that the children she bore would forever alter the course of history.

* * * *

Another with his mind on future history was Neiamas Palpatine, for he would shape it!

As President of the Senate, he wasted no time grasping the lines of power that the High Council had, for so many generations, foolishly ignored. Palpatine regulated and consolidated all shipping; immediately alienating the independents who were forced to give up their livelihoods or find themselves criminals. Of course, there had always been a small percentage of trade that was subversive, Corellians for the most part, but they posed no threat to a plan as vast as Palpatine's. The age-old Merchanters Guild bore the brunt of his 'new legalities', but his control spread it's tentacles beneath the surface of every agency, every political and civilian institution that comprised galactic civilization.

It was not only Aerolone Mothma who recognized Palpatine for the aspiring despot that he was now. All the signs of total oppression were on the horizon for the astute to see. Many denied the possibility. Others felt powerless.

Aerolone acted.

She hastened to organize the bands of dissidents Palpatine so feared into cohesive fighting units capable of standing between the President and his ultimate goal. What no one expected Palpatine to do at such a critical point in time was leave on a 'goodwill' visit to his home system. Ostensibly, it was to allow citizens a chance to interact with their leader. His true motives were much more sinister.

Neiamas did not possess a shred of consideration for the inhabitants of that system or any other. On his home planet, however, was something that interested him greatly-the body of a Jedi that had been pulled from a molten pit.

The Jedi was a dividend. What Palpatine really wanted-what the Dark within him craved- was the crystal. Palpatine had ordered the Jedi taken to a laboratory of sorts. He was placed on life support apparatus and left alone.

The Jedi's mutilated body bore almost no resemblance to anything human. Arms and legs were twisted and burnt to the bone. His hair was gone, his head blistered and oozing, as was his back. The once powerful man had been reduced to a blackened torso, breathing reflexively, clinging to life.

"What have we here?" The four, robed figures that preceded Neiamas Palpatine into the room took up their places on either side of the table where Skywalker lay.

"Vader, my Lord." One hollow voice replied. "A fallen Jedi. he can be saved."

Palpatine's reddened eyes narrowed as he closely inspected the body before him. In the right hand was the Kaiburr crystal, glowing softly. Palpatine smiled; the expression looked unnatural on his sunken face. Darkness was pleased, indeed!

It knew- as it knew all- that this was not Vader, not the human who had done his bidding before the Jedi confronted him. Vader, in the end, had failed him, had chosen the weak side of the Force in the fire pits of Avernus.

Skywalker presented a delectable challenge.

Here was a man so basically good it was repulsive. Even the misfortune and pain would not be enough to prepare him for corruption. That would require craftsmanship. Deception and illusion would be the tools.

"Wake him up!" Palpatine ordered.

Drawing Skywalker from his self-induced unconsciousness was not quickly done. There, pain was a memory. He saw his wife, held out his arms as he walked to her in the mist...but a blinding flash of pain and fire dissolved her. He reached for her, calling, desperate to touch her. Anakin Skywalker woke to agony and found he had no arms at all.

"NOOOOOO!" His anguished scream echoed repeatedly through the dark."Kenobiiiii!" A dark, hooded shape leaned over him.

"Why do you call for the man who left you to die? You have been fortunate, Vader. It is I who have the power, and the compassion, to make you whole again."

Anakin, in torment, screamed against what he heard, what he saw, what he knew.

"The Jedi have brought you to this end." The hooded form continued. "Kenobi used you! He meant for you to die! Did you not see that he was threatened by power such as yours?"

Skywalker was lost in a whirlwind of conflicting images, but he screamed out again, and again.  
"That's not true!"

"He envied your power!" The Evil One snarled. "He envied your youth...even your beloved wife!"

"That's impossible!" Anakin shrieked." You cursed demon!"

Palpatine held up a pale, prosthetic arm, still glistening from preservative. He held it before Anakin's eyes.

"I have been called many things," He replied, caressing the cold limb with a faint smile." You shall call me Master , and I shall never lie to you. See!" He brutally pried the crystal from Anakin's hand and held it up to his face.

"Even now, as you lie in agony, your valued friend goes to your wife!"

Rage and pain and hatred overwhelmed the last vestiges of Anakin Skywalker's control. The room began to shudder with a low, ominous rumbling that unnerved even the Dark itself. He was losing the Jedi; for Anakin was losing his mind.  
To reach that mind, and control it, Palpatine touched the head of the one he called Vader. Instantly, the Force itself repelled him, hurled Palpatine backward against the opposite wall.

Helped to his feet by the faceless sentinels, the President stumbled shakily to the door. With a pause to control himself, he turned to cast a cold, appraising stare upon the mutilated Jedi.

"The choice is yours, Vader." He said with casual cruelty. "You can hold to your useless honor and delusions and die, betrayed and forgotten; or you can accept what I offer you. Your only option is life as my servant or the death the Jedi left you to. Think on it!"


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI

With terrifying speed, events were occurring which would spell the end of not only countless lives, but of ideals and even thoughts and principles that had been the basis of galactic civilization for thousands of generations. Change, that inherent constant in all life, would prove brutal in this dark time. The foundations for a new society were being laid. A New Order ; and Palpatine had decreed that his Empire would have a tomb for a cornerstone.

In every region of the galaxy, death descended. One by one, the Jedi Knights were massacred. They were easy to locate, for their religion required them to remain among the beings they were sworn to protect; even in the most terrible circumstances. Indeed, because of them. And the citizens of the galaxy turned against the Jedi. Led their assassins to them.

In the last days of the war, the good those warriors had done was forgotten in light of the threat of their becoming rulers. Clones! Clones. The word was on countless lips. It fueled paranoia wherever sentient beings existed.

Twenty years before, clones were a reality only to the scientists who had created them. Even as the war over cloning raged, those unnatural beings were being cultivated. Barracks housing thousands of future soldiers of the New Order were now under the complete control of the Galactic President. Also under his control were the original results of the cloning experiment.

Thirteen mutants, defective examples of technology gone mad, had been concealed under high security in the same laboratory complex where they had begun life. Spared years before, for experimentation, they had been kept alive by ambitious politicians. Now these blood-thirsty beings were being put to good use by Neiamas Palpatine. He needed a killing machine to deal with the Jedi. He deployed thirteen.

They were efficient, thorough, and enjoyed their assignments; as evidenced by the regular reports the President received. Detailed accounts of brutal murders were enhanced by the contemplation of the growing number of Jedi family members and sympathizers who would no longer pose a threat to Palpatine's rule. His propaganda had worked flawlessly. His future subjects were helping to eliminate the very individuals who could have stood between them and subjugation.

* * *

In the doorway of Kenobi's home, Besantilier stood watching the twin suns slide down the dusty horizon. It had been hours since the Corellian had left her to watch the skies in vain. A few ships had appeared in the distance, only to turn toward the spaceport. Why had she come here? Kenobi might not return for months! In fact, Bes had no assurances that he would return at all. She turned away from the view as another contraction began. A fine time to be utterly alone, she thought fearfully. Her babies would be born in this desolate place with no one to assist her. No one even knew she was here.

But someone did; and he had never realized how much he loved her until that moment. She was alone, frightened, and crying softly in the dark and he could not hold her. But he stayed, protecting her with his spirit. It was the last thing he could do for his wife and the babies about to be born...one baby, especially. * * *

On Radiaa, Aerolone Mothma was arranging for the safety of her own baby. It would be impossible to keep politics and family separate in the future, Palpatine had proven that. Dack was her heart, all her hopes, all that remained of Tajerh. Eventually, Palpatine would strike at her through the only thing she had left-her child. Aerolone had cried for two nights in her empty bed before she faced the inescapable fact that her decision to oppose Palpatine would cost her child.

"Are you sure it must be this way, Aerolone?" Marcea's kind face was streaked with tears. "Eritria will be blockaded. You may never see either of us again. Don't do this, child. I love you, I..."

Aerolone took Dack from her mother's arms and held him tightly; kissed his cheeks and the little hands that stroked her face. "I know, Mother. I love you both, more than my life. That is why you must take Dack. The Guild will protect you." She returned the baby to her mother's arms then embraced them both, knowing the moment might have to last forever. "Everything is ready. The landspeeder is waiting to take you to the spaceport. This is the only way."

"What will become of you?" Marcea sobbed. "Your child will be safe, but what of mine ?" Aerolone steeled herself against her mother's tears, perilously close as she was to her own, and pressed two holotapes and a small satchel from her own shaking hand into her mother's.

"Your child will survive. Don't believe anything you hear unless it comes from our friends. I trust you with my only son. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. I love him, and I love you and I thank you. Now, go." The Senator watched, a cold lump in her throat, as the last of her family walked out of her life. Part of Tajerh would live on in safety and freedom on Eritria, she would see to that. If her plan was successful.

* * * Senator Vanest Rienstra had ,some time before, taken into his household three new servants. Not that he needed them; but it was the only way the Freedom's Sons could be unobtrusively included in official political gatherings.

It unnerved Rienstra to have such men around; for the Freedom's Sons were as professional a group of killers as could be imagined. Their ideals were the same as the Jedi Knights, but their methods were 180 degrees different. Where Aerolone Mothma had found them, Rienstra didn't ask, but they were perfect for the job.

The occasion was a formal banquet at Rienstra's estate. There, the elite and titled families of the inner systems would assemble to meet their President.

With Palpatine becoming increasingly more isolated, such an opportunity was endash as Aerolone had planned it- too good to miss.

The President and his entourage arrived fashionably late and were greeted by cordial applause. Rienstra watched the flurry of preening and posturing that surrounded Palpatine. Bootlickers, Aerolone called them, and Rienstra could not think of a more appropriate term.

After an elaborate dinner, the guests dispersed to the canopied garden for drinks and conversation. Rienstra maintained discreet eye contact with Naylor; each of them watching for the right moment to begin the operation. Endless minutes passed; it appeared as though the President would spend the evening surrounded by diplomats and minor officials from the rim systems. For a man as antagonistic as Neiamas Palpatine, this lengthy sociability was out of character. It was also unexpected.

In the house, both Senators knew, the three servants were strapping thermal explosives to their bodies. Time was running out. "Relax, Senator," Palpatine smiled." You are to be commended. I have found this evening most enjoyable."

"Our drinks should be here." Rienstra forced himself to remain calm." I'll see what's keeping the servants."

He excused himself and disappeared into the house. Palpatine's eyes followed him intently.

The three men were nearly prepared , they were studying the crowd when Rienstra joined them. "What the hell are you waiting for?!" The black Senator glared at the three." I think he suspects something!" "Can't you get him alone?" The taller of the men asked. "No, damnit!" Rienstra swore nervously. "And I can't very well tell him to come in here! What do we do now?" "Exactly as we had planned." The leader replied bluntly." We're sorry about your friends, but many more will die if we don't kill him now."

"Stay inside ,Senator. We'll tell Naylor you want to see him."

It would only take seconds to die, and take Palpatine with them. One by one they shook the Senator's hand as Palpatine rose from his chair and started toward the house.

"This is for Tajerh." One of the Freedom's Sons growled.

"He's coming in!" Rienstra's voice was a tense whisper as he looked outside. The four men exchanged worried glances. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. The door closed; Palpatine strode toward them. Only Rienstra faced him. One of the commando's breathed a "We're sorry..."

"Is there some problem, Senator?" Palpatine's gaze narrowed. He was directly behind the servants. Looking between them at Rienstra.

"Do it now..." Vanest Rienstra murmured. The three men turned, and a massive explosion destroyed the room.

* * *

News of the assassination attempt would never reach the general public. At least, not officially. Had Palpatine been killed, the galaxy would have known in hours; but he survived.

The fact that a Senator and eight off-world diplomats died on the same night was never explained. Neiamas Palpation forbade any mention of the attack.

Survivors were strongly encouraged to say nothing, but word spread quickly in the Senate. Neiamas Palpatine should not have survived the explosion. He was hurled backward through the glass doors, but the only injuries he sustained were cuts and bruises. Bodies in fragments surrounded him, but the Darkness protected Palpatine. He had been immediately whisked away under heavy security.

* * * Aerolone Mothma knew only that Neiamas Palpatine had survived a blast that killed, not only Vanest Rienstra and the Freedom's Sons, but eight guests outside the house. It was uncanny. It was the possibility of failure that prompted Aerolone to send her mother and child to Eritria, even when failure seemed impossible. Palpatine had done the impossible, and he would, Aerolone thought, do far worse.

Two things replayed themselves over and over in her mind: she had made matters worse, and, no mere human could be alive after three close range thermal detonations.

So the Freedom's Son's were added to Palpatine's list of "Wanted-Dead", along with the Jedi Knights. Rienstra had perished in his own plot; but Palpatine would afford no traitor further opportunity to attack him. Everything he wanted to do would be accomplished by order and all of the power at Darkness' command, far from the reach of anyone or anything. From that night, Aerolone Mothma devoted all her time and energy to organizing the disparate bands of revolutionaries throughout the galaxy into a focused, well-equipped army. An army that would-at every opportunity-strike hard at whatever oppression the Galactic President initiated.

* * *

It was night now, on Tatooine, and Besantilier, he contractions stronger and more frequent, prepared her small store of supplies. She had brought everything needed to deliver a baby, all the tools, she thought as tears streamed down her face, that Kenobi would need. The fear was growing even as the pain was. She had come across the galaxy to protect her children; now they would suffer for her foolishness Kenobi would not arrive in time to help her.

She lay down on the hard cot, contractions ripping through her. Wave after wave of mind-numbing pain. Distorted visions danced before her eyes-the face of her long dead mother dissolved into that of Celis Organa. Both women smiled at her, kind and understanding. They had come, as she knew someone would. Bes relaxed, the pain eased, only to be followed by another and another until there was nothing but pain.

In her delirium she saw her friend Linaire, then Obi-Wan...so real. They were right beside her, but her flailing hands grasped only warm, empty air. If only it were all over. If only the voices would go away. They laughed at her, called her name.

"Bes..." She looked through pain clouded eyes at the bare walls surrounding her. The voice came again and she cringed. It was him! He had found her. Panic clutched at her throat as she drew he knees up in agony. "Please, Darth," she screamed. "Don't hurt us...in Mercy's name, they're your children!"

"Bes..."Vader's voice was everywhere but she could not see him.

"Please," She moaned. "Please..."

Tortured screams rang through the desert night as an elliptical spacecraft plunged through Tatooine's atmosphere.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi had spent years with death and bloodshed; but nothing could have prepared the Jedi for the scene that greeted him when he stepped into his dwelling.

Lying on his bed, deathly pale, was Besantilier. Beside her on the bloodied bedclothes lay two infants. Again, he was too late.

Cursing himself, Kenobi moved immediately to do what he could for the young woman. She had made a feeble attempt to sever the umbilical cords after each baby's birth, succeeding only partially. In giving new life, she had forfeited her own. Besantilier was bleeding to death.

All Kenobi could do was employ the Force to ease her pain. He placed his fingers on her temple, leaned closer trying to make out her words. "Darth...Darth, no...I can't."

"Shhhh," Obi-Wan soothed. "He's gone, Bes. Darth is dead. He can't harm you."

"My babies!" She gasped." Are they...?"

"They're fine, beautiful babies." Kenobi assured her." Please forgive me, Bes, for all the misery I have cause you."

"Not your fault." She caressed his face with a cold hand, felt his tears flowing down her fingers." Bring them to me." She begged. Her breathing was uneven now, and she watched as the Jedi placed the babies in her arms." Look at them, Obi-Wan." She pleaded." Tell me it won't all begin again."

Kenobi knew, all too well, what she feared. He studied the two newborns sadly. A boy and a girl; one fair- haired, the other dark. Innocent and helpless, squirming in their mother's embrace. With utmost care, the Jedi lifted and cradled the girl. The child was strong and good. No need for a lie of kindness.

"There is nothing to fear here, Bes." He said as he smoothed the infant's brown hair." There is hope in this child." He returned Bes' daughter to her arms, picked up the little boy...and froze.

Warning flashes exploded in his brain, but no trace of apprehension was on his face. Unfortunately, even the Jedi could not mask the horror in his eyes.

Bes saw it and knew it for what it was. There, in her beautiful, gurgling son, was everything dark and evil about his father. "Oh, no..."Bes moaned.

"Don't, child." Kenobi desperately tried to keep his own fear from his voice." He is an innocent. He too has hope. Through him I can undo a great wrong. It will be all right, trust me."

With trembling hands, the Jedi placed the infant beside the other. "Rest quietly, Bes." He instructed. "I'll ready ship. In a few hours you will be safe on Alderaan."

Kenobi had been gone only a moment when Darth Vader's voice reached Besantilier again. "Do not let Kenobi take him, Bes." The ghostly voice warned sadly." He is a child of Darkness."

"Obi-Wan believes he can be saved." She answered, weeping.

"You know that isn't true." Vader spoke gently." The choice must be yours; but, my love, would you want to join me knowing you leave our son to be the Destructor?"

Bes cradled her tiny son, searching for some sign that the Jedi had been wrong. Finding none broke her heart.

"Why?" She sobbed." Why must my last act in life be murder?"

* * *

Shielding his face from the blowing sand by pulling his hood down, Obi-Wan hunched over against a moaning wind. Any sandstorm on Tatooine's wastes was dangerous, but a night storm was the worst. In an hour, at the most two, conditions would be too treacherous to attempt a liftoff, particularly with such delicate passengers.

Kenobi's mind really wasn't on Besantilier, or Alderaan. There were things he had to deal with before he could hole up somewhere. He needed time to meditate, to rethink his place in the scheme of things. If there was a place for him after what he had done.

Pausing to shake the sand from his robes, Obi-Wan called out. "The ship is ready." His voice trailed off. Unnatural silence stopped him short, silence louder than the empty desert.

Death...Death was here. Now, all was truly lost.

With the last breath of life in her, Darth Vader's ill-fated widow had murdered her own son. Another tragic chapter his sin of pride had authored.

Of all the deaths the Jedi had seen in his life, these wrenched Kenobi's heart to abject devastation. Tears coursed down his face. But a piteous wail tore his attention from the dead.

Wrapped in an embroidered coverlet, stirring beneath her mother's limp hand, was the infant girl. The tiny, dark haired baby filled the night with the healthy sound of robust life.

With infinite tenderness and compassion, Obi-Wan lifted the tiny bundle and touched the soft cheek with his callused fingertip.

"Forgive me, little one," He whispered to the now quiet infant. "My folly has left us both alone."

A short time later, a funeral pyre illuminated the black desert night. Standing before it, Obi-Wan spoke the age-old words of honor, the Jedi Invocation of Passage.

"Be on your way, Besantilier Vader; strengthen the light with your spirit. Your service has been an example to all, and the good you have done will bring forth new hope. Through the Force you have touched and have been touched. Pass now to the highest knowledge, the highest power, luminous being. Pass from one life of Light, to the Light of all life."

The infant in his arms slept peacefully as the remains of her mother and her birth twin dissolved into smoke and sparks that vanished into the solemn night.

* * *

The Lorinth spacestation rotated majestically between Alderaan and it's yellow-white sun. A city unto itself, Lorinth boasted the latest in hotel and entertainment facilities to tempt the out-system traveler as well as scientific and industrial manufacturing laboratories for the entire Alderaan system.

It was to Lorinth that Linaire and Einar Antilles had gone to find Bes, and the station's well equipped medical center was where Linaire's baby would be born; a development that upset her companions far more than it did her.

"This is disgraceful!" The bronze protocol droid paced back and forth outside the examining room door." My Mistress would not be in this insulting position if we had been given priority clearance we deserved for departure." Einar Antilles rubbed his sore neck muscles, seriously considering deactivating the droid.

"Only military vessels have priority clearance in wartime,Threepio," He explained. He'd lost track of how long they had been waiting, but with the droid's incessant complaining, it felt like days. "Lady Skywalker is in excellent hands. The facilities her are as good as Alderaan's, maybe better. And she does have a human doctor."

"Oh no,Artoo!" Threepio groaned. "Our poor Mistress!"

* * *

Several lighters beyond, Bail Organa's decimated fleet had been pushed back to the outskirts of the Alderaan system. The enemy massed for it's final assault on the remains of the Old Republic.

"It's hopeless, sir," stated Organa's first officer, a young black man who looked far older than his twenty six years, seeing no way out for them." We die here."

"NO!" Organa replied through clenched teeth. "We need a shield."

"Shield?" The young man looked to the Admiral in confusion.

"Lorinth?" A navigator suggested.

"We can't, sir!" The first officer retorted, stunned. "There are over twelve thousand on that station, most of them civilians!"

"There are over five billion on Alderaan, Lieutenant. "Organa answered, gazing solemnly out the viewport." Our choice has been reduced to numbers. I want that station between this fleet and Alderaan."

* * *

Einar Antilles paced the lounge. He hadn't been so nervous since his own child was born. C3PO and his counterpart were standing at the wide, curved view-port where Antilles had strongly suggested they remain. Both droids were so absorbed by several flashes of light in distance that neither turned as the doctor entered the lounge.

"Quiet, Threepio!" The Corellian warned, turning back to the doctor. "Don't worry," The physician continued. "Lady Skywalker has had all the customary medication. I don't foresee any problems."

"I beg your pardon, Sir." Threepio butted in again," But I believe we do have a problem." By this time, the outline of the distant warships was clearly visible. Artoo began beeping frantically.

"What is it, Threepio?" Antilles practically shouted as the doctor returned to his duties. He joined the droids at the window.

"It's the war,Captain,"C3PO replied helpfully." I think it's here."

* * *

"Hey, Madine!" Two inebriated Corellians could be heard plainly even above the deafening noise in Lorinth's opulent bar. "What did ya name the kid?" Half the patrons broke out in derisive laughter.

"Laugh it up, you losers," The bearded Corellian sneered as he pushed his way past human and alien pilots from every corner of the galaxy. With a smug grin, Madine tossed a bulging money pouch before his friends." Give me a gravy run like that one anytime!"

Madine shook his head, grabbed the four-armed waitress and ordered a round of flameouts for everyone." Toman, you give Corelliansa bad name. The lady wanted to go to Tatooine and that's where I left her."

Bleary eyed and unconvinced, Dawes, the youngest of the three, rolled his eyes and sniggered. "Yep, he spaced her! NOBODY wants to go to Tatooine!" Even Madine had to laugh at that.

* * *

The hyperspace transit had taken hours, and the freighter's gauges indicated the Alderaan system was now only minutes away. Even through the closed cockpit doors, Kenobi could hear the pitiful cries of Besantilier's daughter. She needed to be fed and bonded to someone in these first hours of her life.

Poor little thing, he thought. He was doing the best he could; he could not provide for any of her physical or emotional needs, but Celis Organa would.

Carefully eyeing the readout systems of the still-unfamiliar starship, Obi-Wan eased the proper throttles and levers back. A quick jolt, and the freighter exited hyperspace just outside the Alderaan system. The yellow-white star glittered in the distance; it's largest inhabited planet a speck in the foreground. The instant he was within audio range, Kenobi contacted Celis.

At the end of a very long day surveying cities and towns destroyed by Tarkin's attack, Celis Organa was preparing to depart for Lorinth. She hoped she would arrive before Linaire's baby did.

Word of spacecraft approaching the station had not reached Alderaan when an urgent transmission was patched through to the port's executive terminal. There, an anxious Celis Organa was summoned to the comm console.

Still nearly an hour from planetfall, Obi-Wan's voice was hard to separate from the solar static. What was he saying? Something about Bes, then a word she heard clearly...dead.

"How...?"Celis muttered numbly. "Ben, the babies, not the babies..."

Kenobi didn't have time to spend on long explanations. All he wanted to do was leave Vader's child in a safe place and continue on his way.

"No, Celis." The tension in his voice was easy to discern and so unlike the Jedi that Celis prepared for the worst." Besantilier's daughter survived. Will you take her? There is no one else.■ Celis could barely believe her ears. A baby, to raise as her own? Joy she had only dreamed of welled up in her, but an aide interrupted the former queen before she could reply. Kenobi could not make out the muffled conversation; he tapped at his headset, thinking it was interference. Then, Celis' strained voice came through loudly.

"General? Obi-Wan, please...you cannot land. I've just received a report that the Lorinth space station is about to come under attack."

"Celis," Came Kenobi's clipped reply. 'What little good I can do there will have to wait. The safety of this baby is paramount now. Vader and Skywalker are dead. My ETA is 55.7 minutes. Do I have clearance to land?"

"No!" Celis' conscience spoke louder than her heart. "You don't understand. Linaire Skywalker is in labor in Lorinth's med-center!"

"Damnit!" Kenobi swore vehemently, the freighter shuddering violently as it veered sharply starboard. "Not this time!" He slammed a fist on the console. "Not this one."

* * *

Even kilometers out, Einar Antilles recognized a fleet in battle formation. There was no time to waste. If he didn't get Linaire to the Organa ship immediately, they would never make it off the station alive.

The two droids close on his heels. The Corellian captain burst into the obstetrics unit. The human doctor was nowhere in sight.. typical! Neither was Linaire. Antilles grabbed a spindly, human-shaped med droid, whirled it around to face him.

"Where is she?" he demanded. The droid's photoreceptors blinked as he gave it another shake. "Where is Lady Skywalker?"

"If you refer to the human female, sir," the droid responded efficiently. " She has been sedated. Your new little human should be extracted in a short time."

"He asked you for her location, you obsolete pile of circuitry!" Threepio sputtered.

"Tell us where she is!" Antilles demanded. The droid moved away cautiously, blocking a door panel. "We have to get her out of here-NOW!"

"That is quite impossible, sir." The droid's electronic voice was firm. "The female cannot be moved now."

With an outraged beep, Artoo launched his squat body at the med-droid's knees. Antilles stepped over the dismembered droid as Threepio patted his counterpart's domed head.

"Good work, Artoo!" Then he had to add, "You little delinquent."

Antilles soon reappeared carrying a semi-conscious Linaire. Already the first shots were being fired at the station. Klaxons and sirens echoed throughout the facility. They could hear people screaming and running. "Move!" The Corellian shouted. "Head for the hangar!"

* * *

As the first major blast hit the station, pandemonium erupted. Civilians scattered, screaming and trampling each other in their desperate attempts to escape. A dozen small fighters blasted off in response to the stations full-alert warning sirens. Automated defense systems trained the small cannons encircling the station's rim on the hostile spacecraft. In the bar, bloodcurdling Corellian warcries went up.

"Damnblast!" Heads turned from tables and counters. "DAMNBLAST!" Tomen repeated. The floor was rumbling, and the sound of compartment doors slamming shut suggested at least some voiding of the station's atmosphere. He, Dawes and Madine joined seven other Corellian pilots in the smoky corridor. "It sounds like the whole sockdolagin war is out there!"

"Those stinkin' star jockeys!" Dawes snarled. "Cold booze, a hot broad, and we get a couple of rusting hulks out for target practice!"

"How about," Madine grinned evilly," A little Corellian target practice?"

* * *

The freighter Justice swooped gracefully through dozens of outbound star ships, finding a landing spot in a now empty bay. Bail Organa observed the Jedi's arrival at the doomed station, but he was much too busy to worry about Kenobi. He had long before given up trying to understand the Jedi's actions.

Keeping dangerously close to the rotating space station could not go on forever; a fact made vividly apparent by a concussion missile that exploded on the station, taking Organa's largest frigate with it. The ship , and its two hundred man crew, disintegrated in a cloud of gas and fire. The battle intensified.

* * *

Before Kenobi could search for Linaire, he had to ensure the safety of Besantilier's daughter. At least as far as he was able.

Although the Jedi had been amazed at the performance of the unimpressive freighter, it was the discovery of several hidden compartments beneath her decking proved useful.

He dare not take the baby with him through the hazardous maze of Lorinth's corridors and decided, after activating the ship's formidable security system, to place the infant in a well-padded bin before leaving the ship.

Trusting the Force to guide him to Skywalker's widow, Obi-Wan pushed his way through hysterical crowds. Powerful blasts tilted the corridor, knocking frenzied humans and aliens to the floor. Obi-Wan fell to his knees, struggled to stand. All was noise, terror and acrid smoke. He couldn't imagine a more horrific scene until the blast doors at the corridor's far end slammed shut. To his left, a narrow door leading to a narrow sub-hallway sealed automatically.

The screams of those trapped soon ended with a rush of escaping air. Only one route toward the station's main level was open to Kenobi now. He pushed against the advancing mob to his right, trying to reach the dark corridor that would take him to the station's main shaft.

A mere two corridors away, Einar Antilles carried Linaire Skywalker toward the VIP hangar and the waiting Alderaanian cruiser; praying all the while that the bay would not be hit before they reached it. The two terrified droids stuck close to the Corellian captain as successive blasts rocked the station.

Kenobi gained ground by inches, the sea of desperate faces passing him in a blur. A few more minutes...a few more...

Einar Antilles saw the VIP hangar bay a mere thirty meters away. The cruiser, it's engines humming, was visible through the smoke an steam. A miracle.

"Contact the ship, Threepio," Antilles shouted. "Tell'em to prepare the infirmary!" Threepio did as he was told; the shaky voice of an officer urged them to hurry. The hangar shields were down.

* * *

Organa's fleet was not protected behind the station for long. The battle ships kept up heavy fire as picket ships moved in for the kill. Organa began ordering his transports to flee toward Alderaan as Tarkin's dreadnaughts decimated Lorinth.

* * *

Antilles forced his aching legs to go faster as Linaire groaned in his arms. Another mighty explosion shook the hallway, forcing the Corellian to rely on the droids for support, lest he and Lady Skywalker fall to the floor. It would not be long before she gave birth-getting to the cruiser was their only hope.

That hope went up in flames when a well-aimed torpedo slammed into the VIP hangar. Antilles stumbled behind a protruding bulkhead as the debris filled shockwave hurtled past.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi emerged from an access corridor in time to see the explosion and the little group struggling against the escaping atmosphere. Before it moved, Obi-Wan sensed the door behind about to seal the access corridor. He ignited his lightsaber and fused the controls permanently.

"ANTILLES!" He screamed. "This way man! Hurry!"

"Captain!" See Threepio's sensitive audio pickup heard the unfamiliar voice and pointed to the stranger in long robes running toward them." Someone is here to help! Oh-we're saved! We're saved!"

* * *

"By the core, sir, look!" The young Lieutenant pointed out of the command cruiser's window. Several private spacecraft had joined the uneven battle, handily taking on the bulky cruisers advancing on Organa's fleet. The newcomers flew like madmen, flinging their ships between the space station and its attackers.

"Corellians!■ Organa could only identify the markings on a few of the ships, but the style and skill of the pilots was unmistakable.

"We have an incoming transmission, Admiral." The comm controller put the bridge's p.a. system on.

"Hey, got a little trouble out here?" Rison Madine banked his unmarked freighter toward what had to be the 'good guys'. Easy enough to tell...they were the ones getting their choobies fried. "Is this a private party or can anyone join the fun?"

"Feel free, Captain." Organa replied gratefully. "Can you cover our transport's retreat to Alderaan?"

"You got it, pops," Madine grinned as his laser cannons raked one of the picket ships. "Looks like about eight of them to one of us. We can cover you all the way to the Fire Rings of Fornax if that's where you want to go!"

* * *

It hadn't been easy, but Obi-Wan Kenobi had finally led the weary group back to the Justice . The hangar was undamaged and deserted, but a sensation of danger crept over the Jedi. He stopped in the doorway, putting out a restraining arm to stop Antilles and the droids.

"Something's wrong," he whispered. "Wait here."

Making no sound, he approached his ship. Two men in security officer's uniforms were using fusioncutters on the freighter's hatch. "Those won't work, gentlemen." Kenobi said, approaching them casually.

"Then you open it!" One of the men snapped, turning toward him with a blaster, "Or we'll kill you and open it ourselves, old man."

Obi-Wan was now beneath the ship. Antilles could not hear what was being said, but it didn't look good.

"What is he doing?" Threepio whined as his counterpart wobbled in agitation. "Trust him, you said...he's a Jedi, you said. We're doomed!"

With profound calm, Obi-Wan bent to examine the ship's hatch. "Actually, it's General." He responded coldly.

Faster than the eye could follow, the Jedi's lightsaber was arcing through the air, cutting down the two men. He turned, fastening the weapon to his belt and waved to Antilles and the two droids as the boarding ramp lowered.

He entered the freighter followed by the Corellian carrying Linaire and the droids, who barely glanced at the two lifeless humans.

'You see, Artoo, you little coward!" Threepio observed." I told you this Jedi person would handle things!"

The little astrodroid let out a series of animated beeps and whistles.

"No, you addled piece of machinery." His companion muttered. "I do not find this exciting!"


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII

Einar Antilles took the ship's controls while Kenobi and the droids tended to Linaire Skywalker in the ship small infirmary. Pulling away from Lorinth gave the Corellian a good view of the surrounding action.

He saw the fleet to which he had once been attached fighting for survival as it was set upon by what looked like hundreds of enemy spacecraft. In the distance shone the brilliant disk of Alderaan's sun. Space around the station was a three dimensional cats-cradle of laser fire, explosions and debris. To fly his way safely through the pitched battle would take the most skillful piloting of Antilles' life and his heart thudded in his throat as the incredibly agile freighter responded easily to every desperate maneuver he coaxed out of her.

Bail Organa saw the Justice get off safely and passed the word to provide whatever protection they could. He really expected Kenobi to join the battle; what must the men think to see the Jedi's ship escaping to the safety of hyper-space while they faced certain death? Yet, something in Organa could not be angry at Kenobi, or even disappointed in him. If Obi-Wan's destiny was still tied to theirs, it was through the unknowable machinations of the Force. The Jedi had come to Lorinth for a reason, and Organa trusted his friend enough to believe that he had an even more important one for leaving in the midst of battle. Important, indeed.

Linaire Skywalker was about to deliver her baby in the Justice's tiny infirmary. Her anesthetized condition had been a help during their escape; now Obi Wan found the drugs were working against him as he struggled to deliver her child.

The Jedi was calm, in control, although he had never attended a birth before. Once he established a mental link with the young woman, through the Force, things would go smoother. The starship was hardly equipped for childbirth. Nor was Threepio. The droid had certainly reviewed data on human reproduction; it all looked quite fascinating on data tapes. Of course, it hardly seemed efficient, and data images were quite different from actually witnessing such things. The present situation presented the droid with quite a dilemma.

"I don't know what to DO, sir!" He wailed helplessly. It was his duty and programmed primary function to assist his mistress; yet there she was, gasping in pain. "You could start by opening these med-packs" Kenobi instructed. There was a silent jolt as the ship made the transit to hyperspace. "Anakin..."Linaire moaned. "Shhhh." Obi-Wan's voice took on a gentle monotone. "Push...yes. Concentrate. That's right...yes, yes..."

"Oh my goodness!" Threepio gasped as the baby's head appeared. The unopened med-packs fell to the floor. "This is terrible! My poor mistress!"

For just that instant, the Jedi's eyes left the young woman. "Shut down!" He snapped. "What?" The droid stuttered. "SHUT DOWN!" Kenobi repeated. "That's a direct order!" See Threepio's photoreceptors went obediently dark, causing Artoo to whistle in approval.

Obi Wan paid no further attention to either droid. The miracle of birth was before him. There, as the freighter hurtled through the nowhere and everywhere that was hyperspace, a new life was emerging. Where Antilles was taking them, he did not know; nor did he care at the moment. Easily, quickly, the baby was born as Linear Skywalker drifted into a deep sleep. In the Jedi's hands was a human being upon whom no other being had ever looked. Ah, the child!

A tiny, beautiful boy; red and crying as Kenobi cleaned him. Born despite all the odds against him; in the midst of war and death and sorrow. Golden haired like his mother, but the eyes...even just opening and unfocused...Anakin Skywalker looked through those eyes. Such a powerful wave of pain and regret and guilt; strongest of all, the guilt, washed over Obi-Wan's soul and he nearly weakened and fell. A fatherless infant, a young widow unaware that she was now left to face life alone. All this was his doing!

The Jedi picked up the infant, naked and squirming, and began wrapping him in a soft cloth. Artoo Detoo registered the human's unusual expression, beeping querulously. Kenobi didn't hear the droid. Suddenly, he was alone. Free! Endless possibilities stretched before him-a life, no, a soul redeemed! His soul, perhaps even Vader's. All that he had sensed when he had touched Besantilier's son was in direct opposition to the incredible potential of this child. Skywalker's son. Newborn hope was in Kenobi's hands. He felt it, like a brilliant light in his soul. A child of Light; for the Force flowed in the very fiber of this infant boy. Linaire Skywalker had just given birth to the galaxy's best hope for the conquest over Darkness.

* * *

And Darkness knew it. Neiamas Palpatine, in all his evil fury, listened as the reports of his ordered massacre of the Jedi were recounted by one of his loyal Generals. It was believed that all the Jedi had been killed. Believed... The Dark within Palpatine, that was Palpatine, did not feel safe. Not unopposed. Something...someone, still threatened. Then, he heard it... The voice that rang in Palpatine's head struck him down. In the space of a breath, Dark was powerless; and the power that struck him but a glancing blow existed as Darkness itself did- in a human being. It taunted him, rang in his essence like a certainty. A promise.

* * *

"Your enemy is born." Obi Wan announced, much to Artoo's bewilderment. "Your death is certain." The little droid could not decipher the reason for such a strange statement, made to no one in particular. Nor did he discern any logical reason for this strange human's mysterious behavior. There was nothing more to see or do her in any case. Kenobi took no notice of him, so the astrodroid headed for the ship's cockpit. He left his mistress in the capable hands of the Jedi.

Obi Wan placed the now bundled baby next to his mother and sat, for a long moment, looking at Skywalker's wife and child. Suddenly, it was all too clear. Linaire was a noblewoman. She would raise her child in a gentle life of privilege on Alderaan. But this child's destiny would require strength of body as well as spirit, an instinct to survive. The soft life, being pampered and spoiled by art and culture and wealth would only reinforce his gentle nature.

Then there was Vader's daughter to consider. He had not lied to Besantilier; but he had not spoken the entire truth either. There was no predisposition toward evil in the child, but the first influences upon her life would decide her fate. There was a hard edge to the girl's character that would be an asset if it were tempered by the right conditions. A life of hardship would only harden her further. Unlike Skywalker's son, Vader's daughter would benefit from a sheltered, controlled upbringing... If one child must grow up on Alderaan, it could not be Anakin's son. Once again, the Force had presented him with an impossible choice. No choice, really.

If Linaire did not lose her son now, Light would have no champion. Kenobi would never again have the opportunity to undo what he had done with Anakin and Darth. His should would be damned forever, as would the galaxy. To a millennia of darkness.

"Forgive me..." Obi Wan whispered to the sleeping Linaire as he picked up her wide-eyed son. "I must..." Quickly, he carried the infant to the captain's quarters where he had placed Bes' daughter when he had returned to the ship. The baby was sleeping soundly. For a few moments, the two babies lay next to each other on the bunk, Skywalker's lightsaber between them; then Kenobi picked up the weapon and the baby girl and carried her to the one who would be her mother.

The special sound of a baby's cry brought a smile to Einar Antilles' lips. Leaving the ship's controls on automatic posed no danger while in hyperspace, but the astrodroid was ordered to monitor the console while the Corellian went aft.

"General?" He called out before entering the infirmary.

"Come, Antilles," Obi Wan replied. Linaire was waking in response to the warm bundle kicking in her arms, and the Jedi administered a hypo of regenerative fluids.

"Did everything go well?" Einar asked. Just the sight of Linaire and her baby brought back memories of his own wife and son.

"Yes. She just needs to rest now." Kenobi smiled, smoothing the damp hair from Linaire's forehead. "Where are you taking us, Einar?"

"Corell." Came the answer. "It's all over now, General. I want to go home and Lady Skywalker can recover safely there. It's probably the best protected planet in the mid systems. One more jump and..."

"Corell will have to wait, my friend." Kenobi was shaking his head. There wasn't time to spend on Corell. The last thing the Jedi wanted anyone to suspect was that the babies had been switched. If he could bring Linaire to Alderaan, leave her there with her new daughter, neither she nor Antilles need ever see the boy. Time was Kenobi's enemy." Set a course back to Alderaan."

"Alderaan?!" Antilles was more incredulous than disappointed. "That's the war zone now. Returning would be suicide. We can't..."

"Ben...?" Linaire's weak voice interrupted the exchange. "Obi Wan! Einar! Are we safe? My baby...!"

"Yes, Madam," Antilles assured her. "We are safe."

"You have a daughter, Linaire." Kenobi's voice sounded normal, but the words stuck in his throat. The expression on the young woman's face lifted his spirits somewhat. Linaire touched the tiny face in wonder, She stroked the soft brown fuzz, caressed each tiny finger before the baby began to kick and cry. With a smile of complete joy, she looked up at the two men.

"Thank you. Thank you both! She looks like Anakin..."

"Congratulations, m'lady. She's a beautiful baby." Antilles murmured uncomfortably, then turned to go. He had no desire to be present when Anakin Skywalker was discussed in the past tense. Kenobi caught his eye.

"Advise me when we are nearing Alderaan." He instructed. Antilles nodded and was gone. Linaire sense something was wrong.

"How did you find us on Lorinth, Obi-Wan?" She asked uncertainly. "Celis said you would be on Tatooine. Bes is on Tatooine. Bes..."

"I was too late," Kenobi's eyes bored into hers. His rough hands covered her small ones. "Bes is dead, child. I was returning to Alderaan to tell you both. Anakin died on Isua, Linaire, with Darth. I'm so sorry."

There it was, the bitter truth. Death and birth descending together upon one frail woman. Einar Antilles closed the cockpit door against the pitiful sobs and turned the freighter toward Alderaan while Linaire and Kenobi wept in each other's arms.

"Anakin? My Anakin?" Linaire stared at him in shock. "He can't be...I can feel him. He's NOT!" Tears were beginning to stain Kenobi's rugged face as he placed the lightsabers cold weight in her hand, all that was left of the man of valor and honor that Anakin Skywalker had been.

* * *

The freighter Justice was streaking back to a planet that was-as was the rest of the galaxy-about to change drastically. At the core of that change was Neiamas Palpatine. Finally, finally his time had come. He had waited his entire life to obtain true power. Power enough to bring a million star systems to their knees! The power to begin ...or end...anything he wished. That power was his now, from Darkness. Through Darkness. Some small portion of Palpatine's personality remained, but for the most part his possession by Darkness was complete. Through that ambitious dictator, Darkness also possessed it's first, true advantage over it's opposite.

* * * The operation was nearly complete. Prosthetic limbs had be attached to the charred remains of arms and legs. Four hooded beings made the final connections of a specially designed life support system. The electronic control panel rested on Skywalker's chest. It would regulate all vital bodily functions and, once coupled with a customized helmet; amplify sight, hearing and speech. 'Vader' they called him, when they spoke. He did not dispute it. It no longer mattered. What was a name when he was no longer human? Kenobi did this to him, and these creatures of Palpatine were finishing the job. So be it then. As the mask that would shield him from all human contact lowered over his face, Anakin Skywalker twitched in anticipation. Once his continued existence was insured; his revenge, like his power, would know no bounds. In seconds, it was done. Anakin Skywalker died a second time.

Darth Vader rose up. A Dark Sith Lord of Palpatine's making. He rose with a sudden fury to strike out at his tormentors. Massive fists contacted only limp fabric. He whirled around, only to see the three others vanish as though they had never existed.

* * *

Standing on either side of the entrance to the private Presidential chambers were two hand picked soldiers. Palpatine's elite guard. They were startled to see a huge, black garbed figure striding toward them. Whatever it was, it would not pass. Vader paid scant attention to their feeble attempts to stop him. One man was flung aside bodily, the other backed away, terror stricken. Palpatine turned slowly as the doors slammed aside.

"Come in, Vader, " he called out pleasantly. " I have been expecting you. It pleases me to see that you have accepted my offer."

"What was my alternative?" The Dark Lord snapped. "Only a fool would refuse life."

"That was wise." Palpatine nodded thoughtfully. "Especially since you have nothing to go back to. No doubt you will be pleased to learn that I have ordered the extermination of the Jedi...except for one."

"Kenobi..."Vader's amplified voice rumbled.

"That pleasure I have reserved for you, my friend. I am putting a seasoned fleet under your command; and I am calling an end to this war. You will represent me, organize a navy, mop up any resistance. How you deal with Kenobi is your own affair. We are about to raise an Empire!"

And then I shall deal with you! Vader thought silently, turning to leave.

"Thoughts of betrayal, already?" Palpatine stunned him. Even his thoughts were no longer his own. A small gesture, and Vader was brought to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Hear me well, Lord Vader." Palpatine glowered. "It is I who saved you from death, and I who can condemn you to it again. you are mine , no matter where you are. Never forget that!" It was hard to believe, but Bail Organa's fleet and a handful of Corellian merchant ships successfully protected Alderaan for what seemed like an eternity.

Not without loss, but Organa had managed to extricate his most vulnerable ships-those filled with troops and ground support personnel-from the battle. Each one was safely escorted to Alderaan by the Corellians. On Alderaan, leaders and populace alike, had been forced to watch as their small defensive fleet joined the battle that inched ever closer. Celis Organa's horror was further amplified when the reports from the still incoming troop ships confirmed her fears. The paltry assemblage of cruisers and battleships was not a detachment of the Republic's fleet-it was the fleet! Some cruel twist of fate had forced the tattered remains of the Old Republic into defeat before her eyes. Powerless to help, and stricken with grief and terror, the citizens of Alderaan prayed.

The answer to those prayers came in a most unexpected manner. There were few who could appreciate the irony of evil answering the prayers of the good. Still, it had. Because it suited his purposes. Neiamas Palpatine ordered am immediate cease fire. The order was relayed from detachment to detachment throughout the galaxy.

* * *

"They've stopped shooting!"

"Who the hell told them to do that?"

"What do you make of this, Admiral?" Madine echoed his friends confusion. "Should we attack?"

"No, Madine!" Organa replied. " You and your men, all ships, hold your fire!" An intercepted transmission from an enemy vessel was being decoded. Everyone on the bridge listened, speechless. Then, the Admiral himself made the announcement. "By order of his Majesty, the Emperor Palpatine..." He was relaying the message verbatim." All hostile actions will cease immediately." Gentlemen," Bail concluded," The war is over. It's all over."

One word was on everyone's-on both sides-lips. Emperor!

* * *

The same shock and disbelief was being voiced on every ship of the new Emperor's navy. For the most part, the men aboard those ships were relieved and thankful to have survived to return to their homes and families. But there were those for whom war was a career; sadistic, power hungry individuals who not only reacted with disappointment, but who felt cheated of ultimate victory. That victory would be Palpatine's, not theirs; but in time such men would prove valuable to him. They would be the first to be offered the opportunity to explore the depths of barbarity. Their first order, however, was to stop short of wiping out their enemies entirely.

Of all the commanders who felt betrayed, Eschai Tarkin seethed in his fury. Dozens of spacecraft behind him, the crippled enemy in his sights, and he was being ordered to leave not only Organa's fleet, but Alderaan, alone! He wanted to destroy the fleet utterly; and Alderaan! It represented everything the imperious Tarkin loathed. It's rulers had humiliated him and, for all the years of defiance, it deserved to be made an example of. For a few minutes Tarkin refused to acknowledge the order. Battle weary men waited for the signal, and Tarkin weighed his options as he watched Organa's ships fleeing for the safety of Alderaan. He would ignore Palpatine's directive! He had the power and the opportunity to personally eradicate the last vestiges of the Old Republic. His name would go down in galactic history...immortal! In his minds eye he already saw a smoldering, humiliated Alderaan.

As fate would have it, the eyes of a young sub-lieutenant saw another group of ships entering their sector. Massive, main-line fleet ships emerged from hyperspace within visual range of the Alderaan system.

" Sir!" A comm officer called out in surprise to Tarkin. " We are being ordered out of this sector, by a Sithlord named Vader!"

* * *

All over Alderaan, jubilant pandemonium erupted. It's three major ports were soon overcrowded by the large transports and battleships, forcing the last spacecraft hobbling in to put down in the countryside. Planetary rotation was carrying the capital city into night as Organa's command cruiser, flanked by a Corellian freighter and one of two remaining fighters, set down on the soft grass of a sprawling valley. Bail Organa was home, at last. The cruiser's engines had not completely shut down when her crew began surging down the boarding ramps. Men fell to their knees weeping, others screamed and cheered. The grasslands, the spaceports, rang with their voices. Still stunned, a grizzled, exhausted Bail Organa stood a moment in his ships hatch, just looking; drinking in the forgotten beauty of his planet. In the distance, the lights of the capital twinkled against a violet sky. Already, approaching ground vehicles could be seen. Bail Organa walked unsteadily down the ramp, knelt solemnly, and kissed the sweet earth of his beloved Alderaan.

* * *

"I'm alright now." Linaire's voice was strained, but she pulled back, bravely wiping tears from her face." Really, Obi Wan. Please don't blame yourself for what happens in war. Anakin will always be with me, through our child, but...Bes...How? Why?"

"She had given birth before I arrived, Linaire." Kenobi relived the nightmare as he recounted. "There were complications. I don't know what happened. There was nothing I could do. She died shortly after I arrived."

"She was so afraid for her babies...not her babies too?" An indecipherable expression crossed Kenobi's face. He hesitated.

"Only one survived. I..." The Jedi stiffened as an infants wail issued from the rear sleeping quarters. It rang like an announcement, an accusation. Gold terror gripped Kenobi. What woman could mistake her own child? She would know... "I gave Bes Vader my solemn promise to raise him as a Jedi." Obi-Wan finished nervously.

"A boy!?" Linaire's eyes lit up. "Oh, please bring him to me!" Reluctantly, like a man sealing his own doom, Kenobi brought the crying infant to Linaire and placed him in her arms. The moment he dreaded passed uneventfully, almost.

"Poor little thing," the young woman murmured, thinking of her friend. "He'll never know his mother. Anakin and I so wanted a son; we even chose a name."

"What was it?" Kenobi asked nervously. "Luke." She looked up at him with a sad smile. "We chose Luke for a boy and Leia for a girl. Did...did his mother name him?"

"No." Obi Wan admitted. "But there's time for that."

Both babies were red-faced and crying now, and Antilles voice came over the cabin speakers. "Reentering normal space, General. ETA for Alderaan is five minutes."

"Why don't you join Captain Antilles?" Linaire suggested. "While I take care of these two?" His heart heavy with guilt, Obi Wan nodded, leaving Linaire Skywalker to nurse both her children.

* * *

The Alderaan system the Justice entered was eerily peaceful, just as Kenobi had known it would be. This amazed Antilles; after all, there had been a war here only hours before. Kenobi's answer surprised him even more.

"The Capital spaceport, General? "

"No," Obi Wan replied thoughtfully. The standard orbit they had assumed afforded them a clear view of the last of Organa's ships landing. "Put us down with the fleet."

* * *

Dozens of rescue and emergency vehicles, as well as governmental officials, converged on the valley landing site. Civilian and military personnel merged with battle-shocked foot soldiers; some of whom had already begun the long walk to the city. Rison Madine had just introduced himself to Bail Organa when an officer interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, Captain Maimun reports an unknown spacecraft coming out of orbit. We should have visual confirmation shortly." Organa experienced numbing panic as he brought a pair of electro- binoculars up to his eyes. If even one enemy ship had followed them down, it would be a slaughter. Eight ships, over a thousand people, stood unprotected on the wide open grassland. But Bail Organa recognized the ship, even at such a distance and angle of descent.

" It's alright, Lieutenant." Organa sighed. "Clear the field's southern perimeter. That's General Kenobi."

* * *

In the Justices' circular corridor, Linaire Skywalker carefully made her way to the ship's bridge. A re-activated See Threepio had been left to watch the babies in the those last few moments before landing. Moments Linaire would use as her heart dictated. Before she could reach the hatchway, it opened and a rather nervous looking Kenobi stepped out.

"Obi Wan," Linaire began before he could speak." I cannot allow you to take Bes' son. You cannot care for a child! Were will you go? How will you raise him? Life with you would be hard. Hasn't fate treated him harshly enough already?"

"I have given my oath." The Jedi replied evenly, his voice firm. What he had feared was happening. Linaire Skywalker wanted to keep the child she believed to be her friends. It was only natural for her heart to go out to an orphaned infant; but Obi Wan feared more than her maternal instincts. He knew Anakin's young widow to be a Force sensitive. That she had not instantly sensed the baby boy to be her own was small comfort now. Perhaps the drugs had affected her perception. She was right about a hard life for the child, that was an indisputable fact; but, as she spoke, the Jedi steeled his heart against her words.

"But I can give him a family! He will have a mother, a sister...the kind of life we both know Bes would have wanted for him. Any mother would want her child to be protected and loved..."

"I shall always do what is best for the boy!" Kenobi insisted. "And, if he were any other child, you would have him. But he is the son of a Jedi ,Linaire."

The soft thud of landing gear lowering heightened the tension between the two. Linaire didn't understand the unreasonable impasse they had reached. She trusted Kenobi implicitly, because Anakin had and because she knew him to be a man of both power and honor. She had even thought she understood him-or at least the Jedi as a whole. Kenobi knew all this. He knew she could not comprehend his reasons. He was relying on her trust, and upon the obvious fact that, if some part of her did indeed sense her child, she was not attuned enough to realize it.

"I know he's special." Linaire pleaded. In moments they would set down on Alderaan and the thought of Obi Wan leaving with the baby was disturbing her more and more. "So is my daughter! They're both children of Jedi, but...there's more, isn't there?"

The last she spoke so oddly that the Jedi could feel chills crawling up his back. Oh, no..."he thought. A flash of comprehension had almost streaked through the young woman's eyes...almost. Then it was gone.

"I want him, Obi Wan." She stated flatly. The ship's landing gear contacted the ground, then there was a small bump as it settled and the engines wound down. From the sleeping quarters, the sound of babies crying wafted through the freighter. "I will love him as my own, you know that. Is there anything more important than that? If you can tell me that there is, I'll leave him with you. Can you, Obi Wan? Truthfully? Is there some purpose for this baby's growing up in hardship. without a family?"

"Yes." The Jedi replied firmly, the bitter truth weighing heavier in his heart than any lie could. "If there were not, I would never think to take him from you."

* * *

Bail Organa was waiting anxiously as the Justice's boarding ramp lowered. Obi Wan strode down first, but the Jedi's appearance startled the Admiral. Behind him, a young woman carrying a baby was being supported by Einar Antilles and a Threepio unit. Organa was no longer concerned with formalities or military conduct. He rushed forward to embrace his friend.

"What has happened to you, Ben?" He asked worriedly. "What has happened here?" "I will explain, my friend. "The Jedi answered, his eyes boring into Organa's. "But, first, we must see that Lady Skywalker is taken to a medical facility. She has just given birth."

Organa nodded, turning to summon a ground limo. The driver responded immediately, and both men watched as the young woman and her droids were helped aboard. Pausing, Linaire directed one, last, searching look toward Kenobi. Organa noted her troubled expression and the Jedi's absolutely impassive one. Then the groundlimo sped toward the city.

"Here, my landcruiser is waiting." Organa began to usher Kenobi away from the ship. "We can talk on our way to the Capital. It's been so long since I've seen Celis..." The last he murmured to himself.

"I cannot stay, my friend." The Jedi shook his head sadly. "We part here. Go to your good wife. I..." Obi Wan turned and started up the ship's ramp, anxious to get Skywalker's son to safety. "I must go."

"Ben you heard the directive!" A stunned Organa began to follow. "Palpatine has declared himself Emperor! He has ordered the Jedi exterminated!" Kenobi paused, leaning against the hatchway. The faces of scores of fellow Knights passed before him like a dream.

"Emperor...?" He breathed. "I know him by another name."

Bail Organa knew that nothing he had said would deter Kenobi's departure, so he followed him up the ramp, his face stern. "Be reasonable, man! I order you to remain here, for your own safety!"

"Only the Emperor gives orders now, Bail." The Jedi muttered with contempt." Protect Anakin's wife...and the child, at all costs."

"But where will you be safe, Obi Wan?" Organa asked sadly.

"Tatooine." The Jedi whispered, a sense of urgency beginning to creep over him. He dared not remain on Alderaan any longer. By now, Celis knew of his arrival; she would come for Besantilier's child. There would be questions for which there were no answers. "Antilles has the coordinates, if you or the child ever have need of me. I will be on Tatooine...waiting."

* * *

Organa didn't wait to see the Justice lift off. Kenobi's departure had disturbed him greatly; but nothing could ruin the joy he felt at returning to precious Alderaan, and his beloved wife. Having seen and lived through what he did made the Viceroy long to protect his world and his people that much more. Terrible things were yet to come. Thing's far beyond a mere human's control; even beyond the current control of the Jedi. If any besides Kenobi still existed. A radical course of action was forming in Organa's brain; a philosophy seemingly at odds with as military a mind as his. The battle weary Admiral was met at the palace gates by throngs of courtiers, governmental employees and citizens, all cheering. He made his way through the enthusiastic crowd to the palace entrance. Standing there in shock, weeping, was Celis. She held out her arms.

* * *

So it was done. For better or worse, the die was cast. Obi Wan Kenobi had taken a drastic step; one that would be justified if his insight served him. The Jedi had not lied to Organa about where he could be found...though not immediately. He needed time to rationalize what he had done, a place to think. Beneath him now was a cloud shrouded globe, and on it the only being in the universe who could understand.

Putting down on the murky surface of Dagobah filled Kenobi with relief, but also with a sudden wave of indecision. A Jedi Knight for nearly thirty years, he had not seen his Master since the time of his apprenticeship. Having spent the required five years in training, Kenobi had, at the age of twenty, begun a lifetime of learning. Those years spent mastering the Force and delving into the intricate philosophy of the Amidaa had prepared him for all he would face-or so it seemed. He was no longer so certain. More than anything, Obi-Wan's spirit was crumpled by a numbing sense of guilt. Beneath the robes, snuggled against his chest for warmth, Skywalker's son began to cry. Hungry again, he assumed, and there was nothing to give except sweetened water. Kenobi was able to postpone it no longer. He had to go to Yoda.

Removing the baby from his robes, Obi Wan laid him on his lap. Little arms and legs freed themselves from the confines of the coverlet Linaire had wrapped him in. The damp mists crept up around the Jedi's legs as he looked at the babe.

"What will I do with you, little one?" He sighed. There had been a time when Kenobi had wanted children, but that was before the Force had become the focus of his life. It left no room for a family. To be a Jedi became everything; but Kenobi had envied the majority of other Jedi who could fit love and personal commitments into their vocations more than a little.

Here he was now, well into middle age, with an infant to raise. If he were not careful, he might lose sight of the child's place in his life. He would not be a substitute son, but an apprentice. The years would be spent channeling the incredible potential of Skywalker's son. Kenobi held the infant, considering the future, rather than the unfortunate present. What the nameless child would become, if it was meant to be...

"Expected you I have!" Shaken from his contemplation's, Obi Wan turned to his left. Coming toward him through the bog, a small gnome-like creature stabbed the soft soil with a walking stick. He looked angry and his large brown eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Why sit you here in shame, O great Jedi?"

Kenobi hung his head. "I could not bring myself to face you, Master. Forgive me."

"FORGIVE?" Yoda squeaked, drawing himself to his full ,minuscule height. "No forgiveness can I give, Obi- Wan. Your sin it is and only yours. Yours to do and yours to repay!" Yoda waddled up to his former student, glaring, then focused upon the now crying infant. His entire expression changed, softened to wonder.

"So it was foretold, and so you have come." He spoke.

"A wrong to right a wrong." Obi Wan observed sadly. "A bitter option." "The first payment," Yoda riposted, his three-fingered claw like hands touching first the baby's head, then his chest. Skywalker's son quieted. A broad, glowing smile spread across the Jedi Master's green face. "Even are the odds now, not assured...but even." Moments later the two Jedi carried the baby deep into the tangled depth of Dagobah's swamps.

* * *

Bail Organa had returned to his home planet deeply scarred by war. Scarred not only externally, but spiritually. His illusions had been shattered, but his ideals were stronger than ever. Reconstruction demanded all of Organa's time and attention; the transfer from warfare to political compromise proving the most difficult. The vast majority of Alderaan's populace now demanded complete disarmament as the logical way to deal with the new Empire; reasoning that a defenseless Alderaan posed no threat of reprisal and would therefore be left in peace. The political debate would rage for months, during which Organa would fail to see his wife's growing instability. For their own reasons Linaire and Celis avoided each other.

* * *

Several days passed before the shock wore off and Linaire Skywalker came face to face with the cold hard facts. The only man she had ever loved was never coming back. The baby occupied her days, but the nights...the long, lonely nights... So many nights she cried herself to sleep, dreamed of Anakin's laughing blue eyes, heard his voice. So real...only to wake and find herself alone in the dark. She didn't want to talk to anyone. What could she speak of but her loss? She could not bear the well-meaning words of sympathy.

* * *

The very sight of Linaire with her child...the baby that would have been her own...nurtured a poisonous fury in Bail Organa's wife. Why? All she could think of was why. Besantilier Vader had given birth to a girl. Kenobi had personally told her as much. But Linaire had informed her that the Jedi had, and was sworn to raise, Bes' son! Why had he lied!? Why would one Jedi steal another's child, deprive a bereaved young woman of her own flesh and blood? Didn't he think Celis would know when he didn't bring her the baby he'd asked her to raise? Didn't he care who he hurt? Celis wanted to hate Linaire. It would have been the simplest way to deal with the corrosive bitterness; but, though she tried, she could not. Jealousy was too closely entwined with pity for the girl. Compassion tempered Celis' thirst for revenge. She hoped desperately for an opportunity to simply hold Linaire's daughter and pretend.

That Anakin Skywalker's young widow was despondent was to be expected; but it wasn't just the devastating loss of her husband that shadowed Linaire. She could not forget the tiny, helpless baby boy who, for too short a time, had nestled in her arms. The baby's face haunted her. Each time she looked at her own baby girl, she saw Besantilier's infant son. Where was he now, with no mother's arms to cradle him as he nursed, or support him tenderly as he first tried to stand on wobbly legs? She should never have left the Justice without him. Every day, layer upon layer of guilt settled upon Linaire's already broken heart. She tried to remember what Obi Wan had told her. it had seemed so right at the time...or was it the Jedi's powerful presence that had persuaded her? It hardly mattered now. But the time passed and it began to matter a great deal to Linaire. Her conscience would give her no peace until she was satisfied that Kenobi would raise him with love and kindness.

* * *

Obi Wan sat before his Master heavy hearted. The wizened creature cradled the infant carefully, studying the wide-eyed baby for some minutes before he shook his head, grumbling. Kenobi didn't have to hear the words to know what the aged Master Jedi expected of him. he had not come to Dagobah for absolution. There was none for his transgression. Whatever his master instructed, he would do. Guidance was what Kenobi needed, for the one thing that was certain was that there would be a heavy price to pay for his sin of pride. Consequences. Crime and effect.

"Decided have you what to do, Obi- Wan?" Yoda's gravelly voice was filled with challenge.

"Protect him. "Kenobi replied. "Raise him in the Force. Train him when he is of age. I know the mistakes I made with Vader...I won't repeat them with this one."

Yoda rapped Kenobi's shoulder with his walking stick, his eyes narrowing in barely suppressed anger. "NO! To even my patience is there a limit. More is there at stake now than just you, Obi Wan. this time, do you what I say or all will be lost."

"But I followed my feelings, Master. I felt that what I was doing was right."

"You did not! " Yoda shouted. "Watched you, I have. Blinded by pride were you. Wrong it was to train anyone...and wrong it still is."

"But this child is our only hope, Master!" Obi Wan protested. "Am I to let him slip through our fingers after it has gone so far?" Yoda hobbled across the darkened hut and gently placed the baby in Kenobi's arms. He did not move away, but grasped the younger Jedi's shoulder while fixing him with a powerful stare.

"If you value the galaxy's redemption above your own...yes! A child must you allow him to be before a Jedi he can become. If he is to be used now, by destiny it must be. Watch only...do not interfere until right is the time..."

"How will I trust myself to know when, Master?"

"You will know." Yoda promised enigmatically. "You will know..."

* * *

There was only one person Linaire Skywalker could talk to about Kenobi-the man not the Jedi. One person who had fought beside him and called him friend for nearly twenty years. Only Bail Organa could ease Linaire's mind and fill in the missing pieces about Obi Wan and Anakin and about what her capitulation had imposed on a helpless infant. She could not wait another day.

When Bail and Celis returned home that evening, Linaire suggested Celis spend some time with the baby alone instead of with her husband, as was her routine. Bail Organa showed a nervous, drawn Linaire into his study.

"Tell me what is troubling you ,my dear." The Viceroy's voice was full of concern for his unfortunate young guest; barely out of girlhood and dealing with a life suddenly shattered by war. "Please sit down...sit down...I'm sorry we haven't had much time to spend with you."

"You and Lady Organa have been very generous and kind." Linaire shook her head, looking up earnestly at him. "I can never repay you ...but you know Obi Wan better than anyone, Admiral. You've spent all these years with him. Where does he live? Does he have a home and a family? Will he return to Alderaan when it is safe? Can you contact him? Can..."

"Wait...wait a moment." Bail had to interrupt the torrent of questions. Why the sudden interest in Kenobi's whereabouts? Certainly Skywalker's wife knew more about the Jedi religion than he did.

" Obi- Wan is safe, I assure you, Lady Skywalker. He told me he was returning to Tatooine, I assume to go into hiding since this mad Emperor has ordered all Jedi eliminated." He could not bring himself to add 'along with their families', but Linaire knew this to be the reason she and her baby were officially non-existent on Alderaan.

"Hiding? On a desert?!" Linaire buried her face in her hands. "How can he care for a child? Oh, Your Majesty, Bes' baby deserves better than hardship and isolation. I am to blame! I could have saved him from that! Why did I listen to Obi Wan?" He slight shoulders trembled as she sobbed.

"Come, child." Bail sat beside the weeping girl. "Fate has dealt harshly with you. Don't blame yourself for things that are beyond your control. Kenobi will do what is best for the child, as you must do for your own. She is important, a reason for hope!"

"I know...." Linaire had calmed somewhat, brushing tears from her face with shaking hands. "I know she is...as is Bes' son. I...I just can't forget his little face. If not for his promise to Bes, I would have taken him from Obi Wan. He would have given him to me, wouldn't he?"

"Yes." Soothed Organa, admiration for his friend plain in his voice. "He would have, Linaire. But Obi Wan would never break such a promise. Even if he were not Jedi, he is a man of honor."

" HONOR?!" Both looked up to see Celis Organa, Linaire's daughter in her arms, standing in the doorway. She had been there for some time. "Kenobi has no honor!" The former queen continued, wavering. "He's lied to all of us. he promised this baby to me!"

"What is she saying?" An alarmed Linaire cried, looking to the equally confused Viceroy. Organa hastened to his wife's side. "Listen to yourself, wife!" Bail reached for the baby only to have Celis clasp her tighter. "Obi Wan would never do such a thing!" "He has!" Celis insisted. "I have the taped transmissions of our conversation."

"He promised to give you my baby?" Linaire gasped. Every misgiving, every uneasy feeling she'd felt about Kenobi came into sharp focus.

Celis Organa began crying and allowed her husband to take Leia from her arms. "No...oh, you poor child!" She sobbed. "I would never have said anything, never, but it is a sin what Kenobi has done!" The hair stood up on Bail Organa's neck as he watched his heart-broken wife struggling to speak. He thought again of the Jedi's vague explanations, his hurry to leave Alderaan, and he believed his wife even before she continued.

"He's stolen your baby!" Celis blurted. "Before he went to Lorinth, Ben came to Alderaan. He asked me to take Besantilier's daughter . He said her son died with her!" Anakin Skywalker's widow looked to the Viceroy with wild eyes. She felt physically sick, revolted by the obscene accusation being made by a desperate, barren woman; but Organa confirmed the unthinkable by his silence.

"LEIA IS MY BABY!" Linaire shot back. " I know my own flesh and blood!"

"Do you?" The bitter words poured, unintentionally, from Celis as Bail put the baby in Linaire's arms. "Did Kenobi take your child, or did you give him up, in the name of the Force?!"

"How DARE you!" Linaire shrieked as Bail stepped between the two women." That's a filthy lie!" Celis withdrew a small computer transmission tape from her robe and held it before her husband with trusting eyes.

"You know it's true, Bail." She whispered. "Listen for yourselves."

* * *

In the first weeks on Dagobah Kenobi became a student once more. Together, he and the ancient Jedi Master formed a battle plan of sorts. It was more than probable that they were the only two Jedi left alive; a subject about which Yoda was unusually silent. Skywalker's son was well attended to by the old Master, who delighted in concocting nourishing liquids and pacing before the hearth fire with the baby until he was soothed to sleep. And the two Jedi talked.

With each conversation, Kenobi came to terms with what had been done in the Force's name. That a young woman had lost her husband to a Jedi's transgression was obvious; whether her child could make things right remained to be seen. Yoda knew Kenobi was anguished over the deception of Linear Skywalker. it manifested itself with each passing day. Kenobi entrusted the baby totally to his Master's care; he could not look on the child without seeing the last look on his mother's face. it was too fresh in his memory. Obi Wan preferred to leave the past behind him. He would contemplate the future. Yoda knew that future; Obi Wan had no doubt of that. It was likely that he could foresee much of what would befall Skywalker's son...if not all. But it was no use asking Yoda. Vision, Kenobi knew, had to come from within.

"Master," He began as they sat down to a frugal meal of delicate lichens and ramage. "Will you at least tell me if the child will hate me for my manipulations, and reject the Force?"

Yoda looked thoughtful for a time, then shook his head. "No hate is there in this child. Of more danger is love." Obi Wan missed the meaning of the cryptic statement, struggling instead with the concept of love being more dangerous than hate. Yoda dismissed his questioning look before finishing his meal. "Remember!" He cautioned.

"There is another child, Master." Kenobi continued.

"A girl, yes..." Yoda nodded. " There is the hatred, Obi Wan! Dangerous together would they be!"

"I have separated a mother and child so that they would not be together. Should not the children of the Light be dangerous to the Dark?"

"As they are!" Yoda confirmed. Then he sat, studying his pupil. "Is time and space enough to divide a soul, Obi Wan? Can you deter a destined love? Powerful enough are you to separate them from the Force itself?"

"Do you speak against the Force, Yoda?" Kenobi asked. "Why would a combination of the Force and love be wrong for two people?"

"NEVER is love wrong!" The Jedi replied, his large eyes narrowing. "Save us it will...this time! But, through a child of their love could it all begin again!"

"Could?" Kenobi sputtered. " You speak of future possibilities, Master. The Dark has already begun it's reign! What we have lost in time, we must assure with strategy!"

"Strategy?" Yoda's ears curled up. "Think you that the Light would do wrong?"

"NO!" Kenobi defended himself against the accusation. What was Yoda trying to prove? Hadn't he been right about this child? "Aren't we guardians of the Light?"

"To guard is to control, " Yoda whispered slyly. " Servants of the Light are we, Obi- Wan! A guardian have you named yourself?"

Kenobi rose suddenly, staring down at the tiny mystagog, the baby in his arms.

"You say Skywalker's son is the awaited one, and yet you would not have me protect him?"

"You begin to see, Obi-Wan!" Yoda intoned gravely. "Hear the words must you? SPEAK them then!"

Like a man who had seen his own death, Kenobi sank numb and breathless to the hut's floor. With great effort, he lifted his gaze to look into the baby's bottomless blue eyes.

"I have to take him back.■.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII This was how they repaid him! Years of dedication and following orders, even if they were ridiculous orders, got Eschai Tarkin and the men at his command assigned to the furthermost reaches of the new 'Empire'. A pitiful, unexplored, militarily useless binary star system.

A man of Tarkin's insatiable ambition could only make the most of any opportunity presented to distinguish himself. Naturally.

He remained on the orbiting command cruiser, dispatching a garrison of troops to the surface of the system's sole habitable planet; an un-inviting, barren dirtball listed in official charts as... "Tatooine." The gaunt commander spoke as though the word left a bad taste in his mouth. As usual, he glared out of the ship's viewport, brooding, at the dull yellow disk beneath them. "There's nothing here... nothing! We survive twenty years of war and some overzealous little magistrate condemns us to death by boredom!"

"It will only be a short time before the Imperial fleet arrives, sir." A young officer replied helpfully. "Then we will be reassigned."

"Imperial fleet!" Tarkin grumbled in distaste. "Reassignment to where is what concerns me. And what, in the name of the Core, is a Sithlord?"

"We'll find out soon, sir." The officer moved, gratefully, to another viewport; thankful that there was no more to say. His superior's mood was overshadowing the content anticipation of the crew. They only wanted to return to civilization. Tarkin, for some incomprehensible reason, considered himself still at war.

* * *

The perimeter scoutships saw them first and reported back. Tarkin was asleep when his First Officer requested his return to the bridge. Rumpled and annoyed, he listened in silence as the information was received. "The fleet? So soon?"

"No sir," An officer replied. "Captain Raille says it's a luxury cruiser and two armed escorts. What could they be doing out here, Commander?"

"Have they identified themselves? "Tarkin squinted suspiciously.

"Not exactly, sir. Her captain claims it is a consular vessel and entitled to diplomatic immunity. We have visual contact..." He indicated the comm screen. An image of an ornate cruiser and two smaller ships was plainly visible. A look of savored satisfaction crossed Tarkin's face. There it was! The long awaited opportunity to repay the humiliation he had suffered. Repay it with interest.

"Immunity indeed!" Tarkin sneered. "The crest of the Royal House of Alderaan .Board her immediately!" * * *

The ship was the cruiser Allestra . Aboard her was her captain, a pilot for the Organa family for over ten years, as skeleton crew of seven, and Linaire Skywalker.

Reviewing Celis' transmission tape had revealed the truth. A furious Bail Organa had imparted Kenobi's exact location, ordered a ship readied, and sent Linaire too retrieve her baby before another dawn came to Alderaan. Now that ship approached the baleful yellow planet, unsuspectingly. Sensors aboard detected the other ships in orbit high above Tatooine, but it was too late, and they were outnumbered.

"What's happening?" Linaire rushed to the cruiser's bridge as the warning klaxons sounded. "Why haven't we reached Tatooine? What's wrong?"

"We have reached it, my Lady." The ashen faced captain shouted above the noise. Peraza looked grim. "But this system has already been annexed by the Empire. I have been ordered to stand to for boarding by Commander Tarkin."

Tarkin? She had heard that name before! "Tarkin," Linaire whispered hollowly. "That's the monster who nearly destroyed Alderaan! You can't allow boarding. We'll all be killed!"

Panic clawed at her throat. Tatooine filled the viewport with a dull gold radiance. Desperation replaced anger as she looked at it. During the entire trip, she had nursed a seething hatred for the Jedi. He had stolen her baby, betrayed her faith in him and in the Jedi religion. Kenobi had looked into her eyes and lied! Said there was a reason...a good reason. Now Linaire pushed aside the hatred. There was still enough of the Jedi faith in her to know hate would harm her more than it did the Jedi.

She began to cry. The tall, dignified captain winced; there was no time to comfort her. His communications officer signaled him from the deck. The look on the man's face told him the news was bad. "Resist boarding." Peraza ordered with a sorrowful glance at the young noblewoman. His orders were to see her safely to Tatooine and to return her to Alderaan, but this was the best he could do. They were in for it now.

Peraza had heard of Tarkin , and not just the irrational attack on Alderaan. The hatchet faced minor officer had made a name for himself during the war. An unrepeatable one. Cold, calculating and dangerously ambitious, Tarkin was not a man one wanted to face even when the odds were even. These weren't even close.

Tarkin was finally in a position to erase his previous humiliation at Alderaan, effortlessly. There was a promotion in this, if it were justified and correctly executed. When the Allestra's fighter escort blasted the boarding tubes, allowing the cruiser to make a run for it, the Immolator opened fire. In the criss-cross laser fire of their pitiful defense, Eschai Tarkin saw his future in the Empire assured.

Of the thirty-five man crew aboard the Immolator , slightly less than half considered their commanding officer insane. The majority of his men were, fortunately, unscrupulous followers who would obey any order if it would profit them. What Tarkin had planned would get them official recognition they had been denied. It would get them sweet revenge. Three weapons' officers, two comm-crewmen, one navigator, three junior officers and one cadet. They all had to go. Quickly, Tarkin ordered. There was no time to waste. There could be only one version of what was about to happen. The official one. His.

The bodies were still being shoved into an airlock when Tarkin ordered the main laser cannon turned away from the Alderaanian cruiser, and onto the Immolator's sister ship. With one, great blast, the Perdition was blown to hell. Racing for the protection of Tatooine's night side, the Allestra's captain ordered all shields angled aft. It was too easy. Tarkin's ships hadn't even fired on them.

Then, sensors detected lasers firing behind them. Sudden, unexpected...no, not unexpected, not for Tarkin. Only one ship followed now. This was a man who would kill his own men, destroy his own ships, for a reason. A reason Peraza finally saw.

* * *

Linaire Skywalker sat before the forward viewport, rocking gently in her seat. It was minutes away...just minutes.. "Mother's coming, Luke," She whispered to herself and to the advancing surface of that harsh world. ""I'll hold you soon...take you home to your sister."

Her thoughts were on the last time she had seen him; a little pink crying thing with hair the color of soft sunlight and eyes as blue as a clear morning sky. Her son. Her Luke. She sensed someone behind her; it was the captain. She looked up at him, smiling, blissful. "We'll be landing soon, won't we captain?"

Peraza knew they would never land. The big warship was closing on them, At any moment, it would be in firing distance. The fighters turned back to buy a few seconds of time, and disappeared in twin puffs of fire and gas. The words were there, but the froze in Peraza's throat as he looked into the young woman's eyes. In seconds, they would be dead, and he couldn't tell her. She was lost in her own visions.

"Wait until you see him, Peraza. He's perfect and beautiful, like his father."

"...and like his mother..."Peraza forced a sad smile.

"I hope he remembers me." She turned away, blushing. Linaire looked down at Anakin's lightsaber in her lap and felt foolish. She had armed herself with it when boarding threatened and she wasn't even sure she could have wielded the heavy weapon. One day her son would...She saw the baby's hands around the silver pommel, saw them grow into a man's hand's...tried to imagine his face. Then something erased the vision; something cold , a flash of cold fire in her brain. It's taloned fingers snaked through her soul. Never, it screamed. Never.

One look at Peraza gave the voice a face. Death.

The captain put his arms, protectively, around her; as if he could stop it. Tried to hold her face to his jacket so she wouldn't see.

But Linaire pulled away from him. She groped frantically beneath the console, pulled out a long, black cylinder, Tatooine's ocher surface could be seen for the first time...for the last time, Linaire realized. She would never reach it, or her baby.

Tarkin had the Allestra in his sights when Linaire Skywalker held the last link she had to Anakin to her chest for just a second. "I forgive you ,Obi Wan," she murmured. "Protect him, please...."

Swiftly, she placed the lightsaber into the canister and ejected it toward Tatooine's atmosphere.

Tarkin looked, pressed the firing buttons himself, and smiled. The Alderaanian cruiser was no more. Tarkin's bony face reflected pure delight as he watched the expanding collection of debris that had been a consular ship. A small measure of revenge, really. He wondered which of the Royal family had been aboard. Dare he hope it had been both Organa's? No matter. The Imperial fleet had arrived. Tarkin had taken his first step into a bloody and brilliant career. Not the last, however. He and those who were loyal to him would prove valuable assents to the new Empire. Oh, yes; Eschai Tarkin and the new Sithlord understood each other perfectly.

* * *

Following his master's advice, Obi-Wan Kenobi returned to Alderaan with Anakin Skywalker's son. Every step he took toward the Organa palace was agony. How could he face Linaire and his friends? What would he say? Linaire wouldn't ask or care why, and he could only pray that she would not hate him. The Jedi looked at the sleeping baby nestled against his chest, knowing he would never see him again unless the Force willed it. Trust and faith, he mused grimly, a stinging antidote for hubris.

* * * The Organa's knew he was coming, coming back to explain, to ask for forgiveness. More likely, Celis concluded, to accept their offer of sanctuary. An offer made before his deceptions and manipulations came to light.

"I don't want him here!" Celis repeated firmly for the third time since she and her husband had begun arguing, shortly after Linaire Skywalker's departure. "What can he say, Bail? To lie to us , of all people, and that poor young girl! Her husband...her baby."

Bail Organa paced their private quarters trying to maintain control over his emotions. Regardless of the fact that neither of them wanted it, the Jedi had landed at the spaceport. He knew Kenobi well enough to know he would not come to Alderaan now for pardon or asylum. One did not measure Obi-Wan, or any Jedi, with the same scale used for other men. "Regardless of what he has done, we shall receive him." The Viceroy insisted.

"You receive the liar alone! " Celis sneered, turning to walk up the corridor.

` "Don't you dare walk out on me, woman!" Bail finally exploded. "I order you to..."

"You what?!" His wife shrieked. She didn't care if the servant's heard. She had administered the orders on Alderaan during the war! "You don't order ME, Admiral, any more than you could Kenobi!"

"Excuse...pardon me, Your Majesty..." Organa, red faced and sputtering, turned and came face to metal with an unfamiliar protocol droid. The rest of it's announcement went unheard.

Behind the droid stood the Jedi, draped in a worn brown cloak. In his arms, unbelievably, was a baby.

The three people stared at each other. speechless. The utter silence grew more oppressive as Kenobi's impassive expression changed to anxiety. If he didn't do it now, he never would. While the Organa's gaped in shock, Obi-Wan placed the whimpering infant in Bail's arms. "May I speak with Lady Skywalker?" He asked simply.

Bail was speechless, but Celis' anger gave way to panic. She flew at Kenobi, pulled him around to face her. "WHERE IS SHE,WHERE IS LINAIRE?!?"

"What?" The blood drained from the Jedi's face.

"She left for Tatooine before dawn today." Bail glared back. The look of suspicion and distrust in his friends eye's kit Kenobi like a blow. "I TOLD HER YOU LIED TO ME!" Celis snarled." AND STOLE HER BABY! SHE KNOWS ABOUT YOU!" If she hoped for a defensive or violent rejoinder, it wasn't forthcoming.

Kenobi didn't even look at her, but covered his face with his hands and took an unsteady step backward. Something was pushing at the back of his mind; something powerful and threatening; at once alien and familiar. The Force itself was being warped and twisted by this new presence.

"I...I didn't go directly to Tatooine," He murmured, straining to identify the presence, but he could not. There were too many intertwining impressions. Cross currents, the babies especially. Together now, their tiny but powerful presence's now being overshadowed by a menacing one. He didn't attempt an explanation, even if one were possible. Men were running toward them. One was Einar Antilles, and the others wore the robes of governmental officials. All three were wide eyed and breathing hard when they halted before Bail Organa.

"Your Majesty," The Defense Minister gasped. "The Imperial Fleet is approaching the spaceport."

* * *

Time was of the essence. The baby had been whisked away be servants and Kenobi hustled off to an adjoining suite by the time the Imperial delegation approached the palace. Unsure of what to expect, Organa prepared for the worst. All sensitive material that could be considered seditious was destroyed; any personnel not directly connected to palace offices was dismissed for their own safety. If the Empire's representatives were comparable to it's military, everyone in the palace would be taken prisoner or executed.

Obi Wan was trapped, and he knew it. He wouldn't have left the planet, even if the spaceport were not blockaded, Skywalker's son had to be protected at all costs. Leaning against the door separating the throne room from the private apartments, the Jedi listened anxiously to the Organa's as they received their unwelcome guests. Yoda's warning against interference still rang in his mind as he thought of the babies somewhere in the palace. The overwhelming specter of evil drew near.

"All kneel-" A voice rang out. "-in the presence of his Lordship, Darth Vader!" Four armed soldiers preceded a visage draped in black. Towering and ominous, it resembled nothing human. Organa started; Kenobi had said that Vader died on Avernus, along with Skywalker...

Vader!? Kenobi could hear his own heart throbbing in his ears. Darth was alive? He saw the fiery pits of Avernus, the fight, both men falling into the molten crevasse. He had heard the death screams, smelled the burning human flesh. Vader could not have lived! Kenobi had been so certain. He would never have left either of them.

A bass voice rumbled, intimidating even the steel-nerved Organa. "You may rise, Admiral, now that our positions are understood. I am here in the name of the Emperor, to present the terms of your surrender."

"Darth?" Organa asked in amazement." No! It's a lie! Vader is dead!"

An armed guard to Organa's right clubbed Organa with a rifle stock, but halted when Vader ordered it. "Death is a relative term, Admiral." The electronically modulated voice droned. Organa rose with difficulty, helped by his wife." Your assumptions are incorrect and your familiarity will not be tolerated."

Vader motioned for an aide, who stepped forward with a small metal case. "Your belief in hearsay was foolish, Organa, as was your decision to send one of your ships to the Tatooine system."

Vader turned away from the Organa's to scan the room, as though he had been momentarily distracted. When he whirled around, the grotesque armored head tilted questioningly. "What did you hope to gain, Admiral? I have never known you to waste lives."

Bail Organa paled visibly, but said nothing. He didn't have to be told,. Linaire Skywalker was dead. Hot tears coursed down Obi-Wan's face. One slip now, and all was lost. His eyes scanned the room, frantically, for an exit. The conversation in the next room didn't even matter any longer. Somewhere in the palace, the two babies were together and their presence altered the Force perceptibly. Vader's presence he could sense too, groping curiously, like an animal, tracking by scent.

But there was something abnormal about the probing mind, something unfocused and vague. Vader should have sensed him! Whatever the reason, Kenobi knew he soon would; or he would detect the infants. Either way, too much was at stake. He could not use the Force to shield himself, or the babies, lest he be revealed by it's usage. Then there was Yoda's warning. He could either stand by, powerless, or leave the palace; reducing the danger to himself but leaving Skywalker's son unprotected. Obi-Wan's heart was pounding in his ears. Then it almost stopped.

Celis Organa was talking! "Murderer!" She shrieked and lunged for the massive black form. "Your own wife died in torment!"

She actually succeeded in pummeling the armored chest plate before she was pulled away by her husband and two of the Dark Lord's bodyguards. Vader studied the hysterical woman as if she were a specimen on a tray. What was it she had said?

"...my...wife...?" He muttered, almost inaudibly, then he looked to a stony faced Organa." Who was on that ship, Admiral?"

"A...friend of the family, my Lord." The Viceroy responded icily."My wife is understandably upset. She considers herself responsible."

Bail could feel his thoughts being probed and the blood ran cold in his veins. You bastard! he screamed mentally. He filled his mind with obscenities. Vader would learn nothing from him!

Celis was crying uncontrollably now, her words incoherent as she was supported by the two soldiers. Bail Organa stared defiantly. The only sound, for several long seconds, was that of his poor wife being consumed by her guilt and grief.

Kenobi froze in sheer horror, praying harder than he ever had in his life for guidance, divine intervention, anything.

"And you are."Vader intoned finally, his confused demeanor changing to a cold, official one. "Remove Lady Organa." He ordered.

The guards escorted the former queen away, and the Dark Lord motioned Organa to his desk. An aide opened the case he had placed there, and stepped back. "You will now sign the formal surrender, Admiral." Vader commanded." Thereby placing your government under the direct control of the Emperor."

Kenobi could bear it no longer. The sense of imminent disaster was so intense it overrode his every qualm against disregarding Yoda's warnings. Pushing aside a secret panel that led to a maze of escape corridors between the palace walls, Obi Wan began running; praying all the while that he would reach Skywalker's son before Vader sensed him.

* * *

The Imperial entourage watched with satisfaction as the former ruler of Alderaan affixed his signature and seal to the surrender. These were men who delighted in humiliation and cruelty; they knew what this act was costing Organa.

How little they perceived, Vader thought as he shifted his gaze from his former commander to the men and back again. A man like Organa would not accept submission so meekly; his was a spirit that would be enraged by humiliation, not broken by it. Bail Organa...the face, the man....some voiceless part of Anakin Skywalker wanted to say he was sorry as the Admiral stepped back.

"The Emperor will be pleased with your cooperation, Admiral." Vader commented pleasantly. "As a gesture of his benevolence, and to hasten post-war reconstruction, the Emperor is allowing you to retain your titles and your form of planetary government. Subject to his dictates, of course." "Of course." Organa repeated contemptuously.

* * *

Obi-Wan had forsaken the safety of the corridors for speed and had taken to the main hallways. The palace nursery was at the far end of a third floor hallway. Thankfully, Celis Organa was nowhere to be seen.

Trembling and out of breath, the Jedi burst into the room and was confronted by a dumbfounded See-Threepio. No one else was in the nursery.

"Good afternoon, General!" The droid was thankful to see any human." Have you seen Lady Organa, sir? The infants seem rather fretful. I don't know what..."

As the droid babbled, Kenobi bent over the bed. Side by side, for the last time, the two infants looked up at him. Accusing, pleading...bonding, Kenobi realized. Belonging. In the space of a breath he had gathered the quilt around the boy and headed for the door. If it damned him eternally, so be it. Again, he would follow his feelings.

"What are you doing, sir?" Threepio squealed in alarm.

"QUIET!" Kenobi whispered tensely. "Tell no one but Admiral Organa that you have seen me, and...protect that baby! At all costs. That's an order!" With one last glance at the little girl, the Jedi disappeared into the corridor without a sound. Darth Vader and his retinue had scarcely left the throne room when Bail Organa threw open the door to the private room. Kenobi was nowhere to be seen. Keeping close against the inside walls, Obi-Wan finally turned into the wide hallway that fanned out from the palace entrance. One hundred meters ahead, he knew, the path would be bisected by the twin corridors that led into the palace interior. Skywalker's son pressed tightly to his chest, Kenobi began running.

Obi-Wan was not as alone as he appeared to be; for no Jedi is ever alone. Light walked with him...it walked before him. Guarding and protecting. Listening. Knowing the Jedi had done all he could. It would not be enough.

Please Kenobi prayed silently. Did the Maker her him? Would he listen to one who had sinned so badly? A voice echoed through Obi-Wan's brain. "Save me." Again the mental plea, an insistent whisper. Kenobi slowed, drew in a rasped breath. "Darth.?" Skywalker's son began to cry, the sound echoing through the corridor. Another voice came... STOP! He halted. Foolish, he thought. Safety was just meters away. "Anakin?"

* * *

Several steps ahead of his men, the Dark Lord paused. He turned to listen. Bail Organa pushed past the confused guards. Something was happening . "Master?" Vader looked from side to side, puzzled. Organa caught up with him as he stepped into the corridor's junction."Kenobi."

In sheer horror, Organa's eyes followed the Dark Lord's gaze.

There, not two meter's away, absolutely still, stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, Skywalker's son in his arms. Then, the terrible black visage turned to Organa.

"Kenobi has been here."

"Yes." The Viceroy stammered. Didn't he see him? Kenobi looked mesmerized. Vader couldn't see the man! Somehow..."He is my friend; he was

yours! Obi-Wan can help you, Darth!"

The hand Bail Organa placed on the cold armor almost touched Anakin Skywalker. All Bail knew was that some miracle prevented Vader from seeing who was right before him.

Kenobi, too, was stunned. The monster that his student had become was close enough to touch, but between them...

A shimmering wall of light had materialized, separating the two as the Dark could not. Solid from Vader's view, translucent from Kenobi's. Blinding one, affording the other vision. Obi-Wan's first inclination was to flee back down the corridor. The Force itself had acted where he could not. The future of the galaxy was still dependent on Skywalker's son. Kenobi turned away from his greatest failure.

What Vader would do or say meant little here. The Jedi held the future in his hands. Unintimidated by the fearsome metal facemask, Bail Organa stared long and hard at the Dark Lord.

"He wept for you, son," he spoke gently. "The Emperor may have saved your life, but you don't owe him your soul."

"I..." Vader shook his head sadly, turning to gaze back down the hallway. Something intangible gnawed at him, but it was fading now. "It's too late, Bail."

His retinue encircled them now. The looks on the guards faces caused the Viceroy to step back. Although he had given ground, his tactics remained unchanged. It hadn't been Vader's words, but the way they had been spoken, the pain behind them, that stopped Kenobi in his tracks. He turned, once more, to the wall of light. Perhaps all was not lost; perhaps he and the child could save Vader.

"Dammit it man." Bail nearly shouted. "You're alive ! You were a Jedi ! How can it be too late?"

" I EXIST." Vader snarled as Organa began inexplicably, choking. "I exist to destroy! I have caused the Jedi's destruction. I WILL destroy Kenobi! The life of every pathetic being on this planet is in my hands, even as yours is now. The Dark Side rules, Organa! Defiance of it is death! Tell your 'friend' that for me!"

Leaving a gasping Organa crumbling to his knees, Vader and his men exited the palace.

Any pride, any faith Obi-Wan had in Vader's redemption had been slammed out of him in those timeless seconds. He had nearly assured the galaxy's damnation as well as his own. The Light that had protected Skywalker's son from Vader would not have saved him from choice; no matter the price. The Light had trusted Kenobi to choose wisely; he had almost made the wrong choice.

No longer needed, the iridescent barrier dissolved. The Jedi joined his friend, helped the wide-eyed Organa to his feet.

In all the years of violence and warfare Bail Organa had never come closer to the personal terror of death than he just had. Death without a weapon; death by a man's will. Murder by mind.

Whatever Vader had been, the perverse mutation he had become sickened Organa beyond comprehension. He wished he had never heard of the Jedi, or believed in their frightening, unfathomable religion. It was his own faith and belief that crippled the Admiral as he slumped against the cool stone archway. Nebulous theory and ancient myth had just been confirmed. Graphically.

Bail Organa had never been a man to turn from a challenge; never one to fear the unknown. In fact, he had found strength in the very concept of a greater power; but this unknown he wanted no part of. He wanted out. The look on Kenobi's face told him it was already much too late.

* * *

The last conversation Bail Organa and Obi-Wan Kenobi would ever have took place in Organa's dimly lit, private study. An elegant room, it's transparent ceiling offered a breathtaking view of the night sky. It was a conversation neither man relished.

"I wish with all my heart that Alderaan could offer the both of you sanctuary, Obi-Wan." The Viceroy stood, hands clasped behind his back, gazing pensively out the window. "His mother wanted that so much. Now even that has been denied him."

"You know what we face now, Bail." Kenobi replied gravely." This is how it must be. Keeping Vader's daughter is dangerous enough. What's important now is how they are both raised. Look, Bail, if she isn't taught control, if a strong sense of morality isn't instilled in her, the child could be as twisted and evil as your new Dark Lord."

"You needn't worry about that, my friend." Organa sighed. "She is our daughter now. Love should count for something."

Kenobi had to smile at that, remembering Yoda's words. Then he turned deadly serious. "Vader didn't sense them." He commented, joining Organa at the window. 'Of the two, Anakin's son is the stronger, but even his own child...."

"I don't believe there is a human emotion left in him, Obi-Wan. He means to kill you. Are you sure Tatooine will be the safest place?"

"No." The Jedi answered simply. "But it is the only place. The boy's only relatives are there. Sit down, my friend," Kenobi instructed, and both men took seats facing each other. "We must examine our positions and plot strategy. Vader's daughter must be taught of the Force's good side, lest her inherent tendencies toward the Dark be reinforced by what is to come. A life of privilege and comfort will soften and benefit her. But , she must be taught control, discipline...You are a soldier, Bail. Raise her as one!"

"Are you saying, Obi-Wan, that I am to school a daughter in the ways of warfare on a planet that will be, officially, pacifistic? While you take Skywalker's son, the natural born warrior, and make of him..."

"A farmer." Kenobi nodded. "That is what his family will teach him. The boy must learn hardship and sacrifice. He must learn strength. He will be underestimated; that will be his advantage."

"Are you so sure of this, my friend? " Organa worried. "A great deal can go wrong in thirteen years."

The Jedi rose solemnly. The Imperial fleet was far enough away now to insure a safe departure. Bail Organa stood to say goodbye, extending his hand which Kenobi clasped.

"Not this time." There was a genuine, knowing smile on the Jedi's face as the two friends embraced. "Thank you for everything, my friend."

"Clear skies to you, Obi-Wan." Bail smiled back.

Moments later, Organa stood on the wide balcony watching as a dark-robed figure, with a small bundle in it's arms, strode purposefully toward the palace gates. Unable to tear his gaze away, the former King of Alderaan saw the Jedi fade away into the darkness beneath a star-spangled sky. * * *

Return. Back to the beginning, Obi-Wan thought. He was resigned now. There was still much to learn and Tatooine would prove the ideal hermitage. Once he got there.

With the baby wrapped protectively against the chill night, the Jedi strode quickly from the spaceport's entrance to the docking bay containing his ship. Three Corellians crouched beneath the battered hull of a sad looking freighter, repairing as only Corellians could. Fast, dirty and loud.

Kenobi stood watching for a few seconds. If the three men noticed him there, they gave no sign of it. Obi-Wan had already decided that he could not keep the Justice . He dare not. If he were ever to leave Tatooine, it would be by the Force's influence, not his own. He needed a pilot.

Dawes threw a hydrospanner down in disgust and crawled out from beneath the ship. "This is hopeless, Madine." He sneered. "The only thing you're gonna pilot, pal, is a cargo lifter in a one-droid town."

"Pardon me, gentlemen."

Dawes came face to face with a most serious looking man.

"Do any of you know a pilot who has been to the Tatooine system?" The three Corellians exchanged worried looks.

"Hey, Madine!" Tomen snickered. "Your last passenger's husband is lookin' for ya!"

"Rison's the man you want." Dawes gulped. The guy looked mean, but the baby didn't look a thing like Madine. Well, maybe just a little."He made Tatooine in record time."

"Got paid for it, too." Tomen added.

"Thanks, guys." A rather pale Madine wiped greasy hands on his trousers as he faced the stranger.

"Can you take me there now?" Obi-Wan asked." I can make it worth your while."

"I doubt if you could afford me, Pops." The bearded Corellian snickered." My fee is pretty high."

"Where's this fast ship of yours, Captain?" Kenobi wondered.

That brought derisive snorts from Dawes and Tomen.

"You're lookin' at her!" Tomen laughed, indicating the various panels and components littering the hangar deck.

"It seems you're bargaining without a ship." Kenobi observed dryly. "While I have one I will no longer have use for. You pilot her, and she's yours."

Who could resist a deal like that? The last Tomen and Dawes saw of Rison Madine was a smug grin from the cockpit window of the stranger's ship. The bastard had done it again.

* * *

Deep within the desert wastes, south of Tatooine's Dune Sea, lay the moisture farm of Owen and Beru Lars. A plain, hard-working couple in their mid thirties, the Lars' marriage of seven seasons was falling apart.

Year after year they barely scraped a living from their crude homestead. The sands took more than they gave. The pressures mounted. The summer sandstorms had just wiped out any hopes of a profitable season...again, and an argument about doing without money became one about doing without children. Another back-breaking season might bring financial prosperity, but Beru knew there would never be a baby.

It had been another disastrous day. Lying as far away as she could from Owen as he snored, Beru wiped her swollen eyes with her nightgown and tried to get to sleep. Dawn would come soon enough. It would be the same. It was always the same.

Owen's heavy arm thrown across her waist woke Beru only minutes, she was certain, after she had fallen asleep. A glance at the wall chrono disproved that, however; an hour had passed. But something was strange.

Beru listened intently. Owen's rumbling snores were loud and regular; but there was a background sound Beru couldn't place. It wasn't wind or one of the common nightstorms; not atmospheric. Machinery...engines. The noise was getting louder and louder. "Owen."

Sleeping soundly, the burly farmer needed a sharp jab in the ribs before he sat bolt upright.

"There's something outside!" His wife whispered nervously. Now the entire homestead reverberated with the ominous hum. Owen reached for the blaster rifle at the bedside.

"What could it be, Owen? What can we do?" Beru was terrified. She knew an attack, especially at night, meant certain death. The nearest homestead was three hundred kilometers to the south, and they had only hand weapons to defend themselves.

"We do the best we can." Owen answered grimly; but his face was pale and frightened in the dim light.

The couple had reached the homestead's entrance when the rumbling stopped. No sound...nothing. Neither one breathed. Owen leveled the rifle at the entrance. Then there were footsteps on the rear tunnel. Beru dug her nails into her husband's arm.  
Both jumped reflexively at the loud knocking on the metal door.

"Identify yourself or be blasted!" Owen called out.

"In the name of the Force," a soft, clear voice came." Let me in. It's Ben Kenobi."

Beru hurried to open the door while Owen kept the weapon aimed, just in case.

Hunched over, his dark robes covered completely by sand, the Jedi entered the darkened living area.

"We never expected to see you again, Kenobi." Owen's greeting was clipped and cold.

"Owen, please!" Beru snapped. She hurried to Kenobi's side, led him to a chair." Are you alright Ben? How can we help you?"

The Jedi smiled wearily at Beru's concern and slowly opened his robe to reveal a tiny, golden haired baby.

"You can't help me, my friends; but you can help this little one. You're the only family he has left."

"LINAIRE?!" Beru choked. Her little sister! Visions of Linaire on her wedding day shot through Beru's brain. It was the last time they had seen each other. She had been so lovely, so alive, so very much in love with her tall, dashing Anakin! Kenobi knew her thoughts, felt her sorrow.

"Anakin was killed in the war." The Jedi's voice was heavy with regret." And Linaire died soon after giving birth to her son."

Owen had to brush back a tear as Ben placed the sleeping infant in his sobbing wife's arms.

"I'm so sorry." Ben sighed. "I never meant for it to end this way. I know what you think, and I can't blame you if you hate me." He touched Beru's face tenderly, urging her eyes to meet his." He is all that matters now. He needs a home and a family who will protect him and love him...and I need a promise." "What kind of promise?" Owen asked, wary of the Jedi; but his eyes were fixed on his wife. He knew what the baby meant to her. Kenobi had answered their prayers.

"I know how much you have wanted a child of your own," Obi-Wan began gravely," But you cannot adopt him. He is a Skywalker and the Force is his birthright. Most importantly, I must have your word that you will nurture his faith in it. When he is of age, I will return for him, to begin his training as a Jedi."

Ben rose and looked down at the baby one last time, waiting for a response.

"You have our word." Owen replied listlessly, putting his arms around his wife.

"Yes, Ben. Yes." Beru managed. 'I thank you with all my heart. We will protect and love him, always!"

Kenobi nodded, turned and walked toward the door. He opened it then turned. "He is the product of a great love," The Jedi said softly, his eyes were brimming with tears as he pulled the robe's hood over his head. Outside, the desert was silent and dark, the only thing visible were the marks in the sand from the Justice's landing gear." Linaire named him,." Ben began walking, lest they see him weeping, walking into a night filled with hope. " His name," The Jedi smiled as he called back," Is Luke." EPILOGUE Sand and night stretched out before the Jedi. Endless. Silent. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been walking through the desert for over two hours. Hours spent soul searching, praying for guidance.

Had things been made right at last? He had placed the fate of an entire galaxy -and his own soul as well- into the hands of two people who had every reason to hate him. Any blame placed on him was deserved...but the innocents! They did not deserve the years of Darkness ahead.

'Mine to undo, mine to repay.' Kenobi thought wearily as he trudged through the sand. 'Is this considered payment, Master? I tried to un-do the wrong I did Linaire Skywalker, but I cannot undo death.' Destiny had begun to take a hand in things, and the Jedi knew that not interfering would be the hardest thing he had ever done. The agony was in not knowing. Obi-Wan crossed a ridge line, the last barrier between him and his dwelling, and quickened his pace. To the east, the sky was beginning to pale as first sunrise approached.

Twin suns. The first day in exile. A sign! Kenobi's only prayer was for some undeniable indication that he had been pardoned by fate. He was tired, bone weary. Too tired to care about the questions, the guilt, the black desert turning to gold before him. A meter, perhaps two, from the hut's entrance, Obi-Wan stopped. A flash of light. Something reflective buried in the sand. Metal.  
The Jedi bent to examine it, picked up the heavy object. It was a small canister, scarred and blackened. A ship's message canister. He and Madine had arrive on Tatooine only hours before; no ships had been in the Tatooine system at all. The capsule could have lain buried in the sand for years.

Obi-Wan unhooked the double latches and peered inside as the twin suns brought the full, blinding light of Tatooine's morning to the wastelands. Tears streamed sown the Jedi's lined face as he looked at Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber. He lifted it reverently, dropping the capsule to the sand. The sun's rays reflected off the weapon, blindingly brilliant.

Linaire! The feelings that washed over him!

Pain. Anger. Sorrow. She had come for her child and met death in the sky over Tatooine. Was this his sign? Anakin Skywalker's son and his lightsaber, returned together to Tatooine?

A sign , yes. And a mother's gift. Kenobi felt love. Linaire's last feeling, her last thought. She was trying to tell him something, even now. She had come, and she had known' and in the end she had granted him the one thing only she could give...her forgiveness.

He could wait now. He could face the years of Darkness ahead because he knew. He knew at the end there would be Light. _-_END_-_

Dedicated to the memory of Robbie Woods 


End file.
